I will never give up on you
by vonnie836
Summary: Two deaths lead Sam and Dean to a new hunt. While trying to rid a large mansion from a spirit, Sam suddenly changes and starts to act strangely. Things slide downhill from there. Can Dean save him or is it already too late? LimpSam, Hurt/ProtectiveDean
1. Chapter 1

_Here is my newest fic, I hope you will like it. It is dedicated to all my supporters. You are truly awesome and encouraging. I hope this will be to your liking and you will continue to let me know what you think. Hugs, Vonnie_

_**Standard Disclaimer applies like always. I still haven't been able to scrape the money together to by the boys. I'm working on it but don't think it will ever happen**._

_**I'll never give up on you**_

The black '67 Impala was the only car cruising along the dusty country road on this mild early May afternoon. Dean Winchester, contrary to most other occasions, was in no hurry to get anywhere. Today he just enjoyed driving his baby. The windows of the Impala were rolled down and the tape player played Back in Black by AC/DC loud enough so the birds and every other living being within a miles range could enjoy it also. Dean was tapping his hands on the stirring wheel in tact with the music, while singing along.

Sam, who usually would just shake his head about his brother's taste in music, was leaning back in the seat and let the wind blow through his thick brown mop of hair. He watched his brother, enjoying the enthusiasm the older man showed. It still amazed Sam how much fun Dean could have driving his car and listening to his favorite music.

Things had been going well for them for a change. The last three hunts they've been on had gone down without a hitch. Other then a few bruises and scratches neither one of them had received any injuries. And what was even more important, no one had been killed or injured after they had taken on the hunts. In the past their motto seemed to be 'If it wouldn't be for bad luck, a Winchester wouldn't have any luck at all'. Now this really seemed to have changed and maybe they've should be weary of this but for once they decided to take it at face value and just enjoy their strain of good luck.

As the song ended Dean turned the volume down and gazed over to his brother. He was glad Sam was relaxed and seemed genuinely happy. It was good to see him this way after all that had happened in the last six month. Loosing his girlfriend the same way their mother died and with it the opportunity to live a normal life, being back on the road hunting and their father missing had taken a lot out of his baby brother and had made him moody and closed off. Only in the last few weeks did he finally start to let his guard down and enjoy life a little more again.

"Hey, Dean, don't you think you should try to wipe that stupid grin off your face and watch where you driving?" Sam interrupted his brother's thoughts.

Dean turned his attention back to driving but answered without loosing a beat, "Baby knows where she is going, don't you girl?"

He stroked his hand over the stirring wheel before leaning forward and patting the dash. Sam shook his head, sometimes his brother's behavior was beyond words. So he just choose to ignore it.

"How much longer till we get there?" He asked instead.

"About an hour, what, do I have to stop for a potty break for little Sammy?" Dean smirked.

"Should I remind you of the many breaks we took on the way here just that you could relief your pea sized bladder?" Sam countered, before he went on, "No, actually, I just thought it would be nice to stretch my legs and get some food but I can wait for another hour."

"Well, let me know if you can't, I really don't want to carry your freakish long body around, just because you are starving." Dean smirked, ignoring the long suffering look his brother gave him, before suddenly changing the subject, " So what is this hunt all about anyway? You didn't tell me too much, just that two men died and it really seemed to fit a supernatural pattern. "

"Actually, I don't know that much either. This old lady, her name was Marlena Chambers died six month ago. She left her house, or better her mansion to the town, probably because she didn't have any living relatives. It is being renovated right now and turned into a museum, so nobody has been living there since then. The only people spending any time in there are the construction workers, that work there every day. In the last two month two of them have been found dead. Cause of death was unclear and both were found in the same room."

Dean thought for a moment, then he asked, "Any previous supernatural activity in the house?"

"No, that's what's weired, nothing until now and the old lady died of natural causes, she was 98. Lived alone all her life, no siblings, never married, no children. Was always an upstanding member of society, went to church and volunteered until a few years ago. Nothing that would point to her doing the killings." Sam was clearly puzzled.

"Don't worry, we figure it out, don't we always? Let's just get there, then you can do your geek boy thing and find out what's going on."

Although Dean kept his response light, the wheels in his brain were already turning, trying to figure out were to start. One look at his brother told him he wasn't not alone in it, Sam had that look on his face that he always got when he was trying to solve something. For either of them hunting was like a great book or in Dean's case a great movie, once you started you couldn't get away from it until it was finished.

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It was late afternoon when Dean pulled into the town that was their destination. Driving down main street it looked like any of the other towns the brothers been to. Small stores lining up on both sides of the street, alternating with a bank, several restaurants and the mandatory 24 hour diner. Traffic was heavy due to the hour and school being out for the day. This seemed to be the hangout place for the local youth.

The elder Winchester finally found a spot and parked the car close to the diner. He looked over to his brother, waiting for approval before getting out of the car. Instead of responding, Sam just grinned and peeled his long limps out of the car. He was not going to stand in the way of his brother's desire for greasy food, at least not today. Matter of fact, he felt up for a burger and some fries himself. Feeling generous, he even held the door of the diner open.

After sitting down and ordering the food from the matronly waitress, Dean left to use the rest room, while Sam opened his lab top to start to research. His fingers were flying over the keys and his face was tense in concentration, he didn't notice his brother sliding back in the seat or the waitress bringing the soda's they ordered.

"Must be be finding something interesting?"

Sam jerked, startled out of his enthrallment by Dean's voice.

"Man, don't do that, if I would've had a gun on me, you would be so dead now."

"Sorry, didn't know you were this jumpy." Dean apologized, "So did you find anything?"

"Not yet but I might be on to something. The house was build in the late 18th century by one of the founders of the town, Jonathan Chambers. That means until now it was always in the hands of the family. That the last Mrs. Chambers left it to the town could've possibly enraged the spirit of an ancestor." Sam explained.

"Definitely worth looking into." his brother replied, "But let's eat first."

He gave the waitress a smile and thanks as she set his food in front of him. Ready to start eating he looked at his brother and could hardly believe what he saw. Sam had already taken a big bite out of his burger and now was stuffing several fries into his mouth.

"Dude, what's going on?" He ask in disbelieve.

Sam chewed and swallowed, then lifted his hands, fries in one, burger in the other, and gave him an innocent look. "Man, I'm starving, we haven't eaten since this morning."

"Isn't that usually my line?" Dean smirked, "And what is it about you eating a burger anyway?"

His brother didn't grace him with a response this time, continuing to eat and as he finished the last of his fries, reaching over to Dean's plate for more.

The older slapped his finger's, protesting loudly, "Hey, keep your hands off my food, you want more, order your own."

Waving his hand at the waitress, Sam called out, "Can I have a piece of your apple pie?"

"Sure sweety." she called back, getting a plate and cutting a big piece, before topping it with lots of cream, "Here you go, enjoy."

She put the plate in front of Sam,smiling at him before giving Dean a disapproving look, "Something wrong with your food? We usually don't get any complaints around here."

"No, ma'am, nothing wrong with it, just like to watch my kid brother dig in." he answered, hardly holding back a laugh.

This was almost surreal, as mostly it was Sam who needed to be encouraged to eat, while he, Dean, was the one who stuffed his face with anything he could find. Although it was nice for a change to not have to push his brother into eating. Ever since he was little, Sam would take only the very minimum nourishment if he was sick or in any kind of emotional distress. Seeing him like this meant things were looking up and what more did he want for the kid.

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When they finished their meals and went back to the car, Dean decided to pay the Chambers House a visit. By now it was almost 6 PM and the likelihood of finding any construction workers left working, was little to none. Sam had agreed with his plan, eager to see the historical building.

It was easy to find, lying on the outskirts of town, it was surrounded by a beautifully trimmed hedge of wild roses. There was no fence around the building and so the brother made their way up the walkway towards the mansion. Due to the tall hedge, the view from the street was partially obstructed and so it was not until they actually entered the property, that the charm of the mansion came to light. Being rather plain by itself, the white framed windows stood in stark contrast to the dark red brick of the walls. Ivy was growing up the walls and along underneath the roof. The front door was also white wood and the arched frame around it had lots of ornamental flowers and leaves.

"Wow, look at it, this is late 18th century architecture at its best." Sam called out, "They call this Adams

or Federalist Style, after the Adams brothers who developed it out of the Georgian Style that came right before it."

"Dude, you're such a geek." Dean grinned, although he couldn't deny his amazement with his kid brothers knowledge.

A smile appeared on the other hunter's face, "Jess and I took a summer class on American architecture. It was really amazing. Jess was so into it, I couldn't help but like it too. She just had this thing for beautiful old buildings. She planned to buy one after college and fix it up."

He stopped, looking lost in thought but the smile never disappeared.

Dean gave him a slightly surprised look but didn't say anything. Up to now, whenever Sam would talk about Jess it seemed more like an accident and he usually interrupted himself and got the 'lost puppy' look on his face. It appeared, his brother's heart was finally starting to mend.

"Lets do this before this house gets old and falls down." Dean walked toward the door and bend down, pulling the case with the lock picks out of his back pocket.

It took him only seconds to open the heavy door. Waving at Sam, he slid inside the house. The younger Winchester followed, quietly pulling the door closed behind him. Both simultaneously pulled their flashlights out of their coat pockets and shone them around the entry hall.

"Why don't I take the left and you take the right side and we meet here again." Sam was already on his way before he finished the sentence, leaving his brother standing in the middle of the hall.

Dean shook his head and walked off to the other side. Looking through all the rooms, making sure he would miss nothing, he was disappointed when he came up empty. Making his way back to the hall, he almost collided with Sam.

"Dude, watch where you going."

"I will as soon as you clean out your ears." Sam responded, "I've been calling for you for the last five minutes."

"Sorry, I didn't hear you, must be the thick walls in this house."

"Yeah, couldn't be that you get hard of hearing in your old age, could it?" Sam grinned.

"Who is getting old? Better watch it kid, I still can kick your ass with one hand tied behind my back."

"Wanna bet?"

"Don't have to proof anything to you." Dean smirked, "Let's go and check the upstairs out."

Sam smiled and followed his brother up the stairs.

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The upstairs floor had 6 bedrooms and two bathrooms. While the bathrooms had all modern commodities, they were still kept true to the style of the era when the house was build. The bedrooms were fairly equal in size and layout, decorated with lots of flowing fabric and family paintings on the wall. It wasn't until they came to the last, that it changed.

This bedroom had none of the flowing fabric. The curtains were plain and straight and the bed had no fancy pillows or quilts. It would have looked like a servants room, if it wasn't for the large painting on the wall. Sam was instantly drawn to it, unable to move his eyes from it. It depicted a beautiful young woman, dressed in the style of the early to mid 19th century. She stood in front of a hedge of wild roses, just like the one that surrounded the property. Her red hair was flowing in loose curls over her shoulders and framed a flawless face with full lips and a small straight nose. But it was the bright emerald colored eyes that caught his attention the most. It almost felt like they were staring at him, looking right into his soul. A strange tingling was flowing through him, making him shiver.

"You ok?" Dean had noticed his brother paling slightly and the shiver that ran through him.

Sam gave him an almost confused look, like he had been far away, before he answered, "Yeah, there is just something about this painting. The eyes seem so real."

"Yeah, gives me the creeps." Dean agreed.

He went closer to the picture and read the plaque in the bottom of the frame, "Rebekkah Chambers, 1795 – 1817. Wonder what killed her?"

"She might be who we are looking for." Sam agreed, "Lets see what we can find out about her and come back tomorrow night."

Dean agreed, he too had the feeling they were on the right track.

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After leaving the house, the brothers started looking for a place to spend the night. For once they got lucky , instead of one of their usual crappy motel rooms, they actually found a decent hotel that was locally owned. It was still preseason and the building was under renovation, which made the rooms dirt cheap.

Dean was thrilled with the shower that actually had pressure and enough hot water to enjoy it as long as he wanted, while Sam was almost ecstatic when he turned on the lab top and found the connection was super fast and top of the line. By the time his brother reentered the room, he was again so engrossed into his research, Dean's hand on his shoulder made him jump up and almost pull the lab top of the table.

"Dude, you have to be more alert, if I was a demon, you would be either possessed or dead now." This time it was older brother who did the teasing.

"Right, that's what we put the salt lines on the window sills and the door for. Man, you almost owed me a new lab top." Sam replied without loosing a beat.

"No way, can't help it, if you are such a klutz." Dean smirked.

"I might be a klutz but at least I'm a smart one. Found out there is a few books about the history of the town and particularly of the Chambers family, that are kept at the local library. Sounds like it might be just what we are looking for."

"Guess it's going to be a fun filled day for you, doing what you like to do best, bookworm."

Sam grinned, Dean knew he couldn't get him with this remark, research was what he was best at and what saved their butts more than once in the past. He turned around and walked into the bathroom, hoping that there would be enough hot water left for him to take a short shower.

When he came out half an hour later, his skin was still tingling from the massaging shower head and the never ending stream of hot water. He found his brother had ordered in and was half through the first pizza. Taking a piece and sitting down on the bed, Sam grabbed one of the beers, that were sitting beside the box.

"What're you watching?" he asked

"Ghost Hunters, you know those guys, they seemed to get a lot of readings but they sure haven't met a spirit face to face yet. Guess they're lucky because I sure don't think they could handle an angry spirit."

"So why are you watching then?"

Dean grinned, "Nothing better on, unless you wanna watch porn."

"Guess Ghost Hunters it is."

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Sam was up early the next morning. Even though the bed was the most comfortable one he had slept in for month, his night had been restless. He didn't have any real nightmares but the intense green eyes from the pictures seemed to stare at him whenever he fell asleep. Finally he got up and decided to take a walk. Quietly he dressed and wrote a note for his brother, knowing Dean would flip, if he woke up without Sam being there.

When he returned Dean was nowhere to be seen but from the loud off-key singing and splashing coming from the bathroom, he was obviously enjoying himself. Having brought back breakfast from the diner down the street, Sam decided to give the in room coffeemaker a try. It wasn't that often they could enjoy this luxury and he was fully intent on using it. By the time his brother came out, the coffee was done and Sam had set the food on the table.

Dean was happily surprised to find the variety of food sitting in front of him. Bacon, sausage, eggs, toast, hash browns and not to forget the fruit his little brother didn't seem to be able to live without.

What really drew him in was the scent of the steaming coffee. Taking a big gulp from the hot, almost black beverage, he looked at his brother.

"Now that's the life, soft beds, whirlpool tub, good food and great coffee."

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Sam grinned.

"What else would I want." Dean stretched his legs.

"I thought girls were the most important thing in your life, or did you loose your touch?" His younger brother teased.

"The great Dean Winchester loosing his touch? No way, man, sometimes you just have to sit back and take a break. Girls appreciate you more if you make yourself spars. Believe me kid, making them hot and then disappearing for a few days is the best way to have them all over you, when you get back."

Sam couldn't hold his laugh back, his brother was so full of himself. But one thing was sure, women liked him and he always treated them well.

"So what's the plan for today, Sammy?" Dean changed the subject.

"The library opens at nine, it's just a few blocks from here. I'll go over and work for a few hours, see what I can find. You can pick me up around noon, I'll call you if I get done earlier."

"Sounds like a good way to spend the morning for you. I think, I'll go and talk to some of the workers at the house, see if I can find out something new." Dean stuffed the last bites of his food in his mouth and washed it down with the rest of the coffee.

He took the car keys from the table and opened the door. "Oh and Sammy, I would wipe that egg off my face before I go out, it just doesn't look good in case the librarian is female. I know how those old maids always fall for you."

He pulled the door shut fast, before the empty food container, his brother was throwing at him could hit him.

"Idiot!" He heard his brother's voice coming from the other side of the door.

Dean chuckled and walked over to the elevator, pleased with himself and the world.

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Sam had no trouble finding the books he was looking for. The library had a small section that proudly displayed books, magazines and tapes dedicated to the history of the town and its surrounding area. Grabbing what he needed, he sat down at one of the tables and opened the first book. It took only a second for him to become totally engrossed it.

As he came to the section about Rebekah Chambers a strange feeling assaulted him, making him shiver. Closing his eyes for a moment, he saw the emerald eyes staring at him again. It was like they were talking to him, only he was unable to understand their message. Opening his lids, he shook his discomfort off.

'Sam, you're loosing it." He scolded himself.

Concentrating once again on his research, he still couldn't shake the impression of the intense orbs continuing to observe every one of his moves and reading every thought he had.

Finally he looked up and checked his watch. Realizing it was almost noon, he closed the book and put it on top of the other two. As he walked over to the check out desk, he was hit by a sudden pain, that pierced through his temples like a dagger. Stumbling, he held on to a pillar, the books dropping to the floor with a loud bang. His other hand went up, as he used his thumb and middle finger to apply pressure to his temples at the same time as he squinted his eyes shut to try to soothe the stabbing ache.

"Are you alright?" He heard a soft voice ask, before he felt a chair pushed up behind him and a hand gently grabbing his arm, "Here, why don't you sit down?"

Gratefully he took the offer, bending over as he sat. After a few minutes the pain finally let off and he carefully opened his eyes so see an attractive thirty something woman crouched down in front of him.

Her face showed honest concern.

"Can I call someone for you or do you need a ride? My lunch break is coming up and I could take you wherever you need to go." She offered.

"Thanks, but I think I'm fine now and my brother is supposed to pick me up anyway." He gave her a tired smile, suddenly feeling very worn out. "Thanks for the offer though, Miss..."

"It's Mrs. Sommers but around here we are not that formal, everybody calls me Jamie." She pointed at her name tag, that identified her only by her first name and the title head librarian.

The young hunter couldn't hold back a smile, Dean would be surprised, in his opinion all librarians were old maids, that no man would look at. This one though broke the mold, obviously she was married and very pretty, in a way that even Dean would appreciate.

"You want to take these books with you?" Jamie interrupted his thoughts. She picked the three hard backs up from the floor and held them out to him.

"If I could, my brother and I are just here for a few days, we are staying at the Conley Hotel a few blocks from here."

"No problem, just bring them back when you are done or leave them at the hotel front desk. We have many tourists in summer, that like to check out some of the local history books, so the hotel offers to collect them and bring them back to us once a week. Saves us a lot of trouble. Just give me your name and your room number."

Sam blushed, he couldn't believe he hadn't introduced himself, "Sorry, I'm Sam Watson, we're staying in room 243."

She took the book over to the desk and put the information into the computer before she scanned them. By the time she was finished, Sam was on his feet and standing in front of her. She handed him the books with a smile, "Here you go, just promise me you won't just sit there and read all day. Take some time and have some fun. This is a great little town with a lot to see and do even in the pre-season."

Sam grinned, "I think I can do that, my brother is going to make sure, that I'm not just reading."

"Good, now are you sure, you're feeling ok, or do you want me to help you?"

"No, I'm great, don't worry, my brother is probably already waiting for me. But thanks for you help. I'll try to bring the books back as soon as I'm done with them." He gave her another smile before he walked away.

TBC

_Ok, no evil cliffies, yet. I hope you are not bored already but I really needed a good set up for this one. I promise action will come. So what do you think?_


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks for all your wonderful reviews. It is never easy to post a new story for me and you have been so supportive. Hope I can live up to all of your expectations. _

**Standard Disclaimer continues to apply!**

As Sam had assumed, Dean was already waiting for him. The Impala was pulled up right in front of the main entrance, the windows rolled down and the music on highest volume. Dean was leaning back in the drivers seat with his eyes closed and his hands tapping to the beat.

When his brother opened the passenger side door and slid into the seat, he looked over. "About time you showed up, I was ready to send a search party in for you."

The younger brother just smiled, "Quit complaining and drive, I'm starving."

For once Dean followed Sam's request without further arguing, maybe because his stomach had been complaining for some time already. He drove them downtown and pulled up in front of the same diner, where they had eaten the day before. Parking the car, he jumped out and entered the diner before his brother even had a change to completely peel his long body out of the car. The same waitress took their orders, once again smiling at Sam in a very motherly way.

After she left, Dean started without further delay, "I didn't find out a lot of new things in talking to the workers. Turns out both dead men stayed late the nights they were killed. We already knew they died in the same room, what we didn't know was that it was Rebekah Chamber's room. Otherwise no one noticed anything unusual before or after the deaths. I did run down to the morgue and got a peek at the medical examiners report though."

The older Winchester paused, letting the teaser sink in. He could see it in his brothers eyes, that the other couldn't wait for what he had to say.

Waiting for another second, he finally continued, "As strange as it sounds but both of them died of broken hearts."

Sam gave him a disbelieving look, "Ok, say that again, they died of what?"

"You heard right, broken hearts. Actually, there was a long tear in either of their hearts. It sounds like the medical examiner had difficulty explaining it, so he just called it 'cardiac rupture of unknown origin'."

"And nobody questioned it?"

"There was nothing to question, neither had any injuries on the outside." Dean explained.

"Dude, that's major weird." Sam responded.

"Man, what's happening to you? You are turning into me." The older brother looked at him with amazement.

"Must be the daily close contact with you rubbing off." Sam shrugged his shoulders.

For a moment they were quiet, concentrating on eating the food, which the waitress had just set in front of him. This time the younger Winchester had ordered a salad and was eating it with gusto, while Dean ate his usual burger and fries. After finishing most of his meal, Sam looked up.

"I found some interesting facts during my research, although I'm not even close to finishing the first book. It looks like Rebekah Chambers disappeared, no one actually knows, if she died or lived happily ever after somewhere else. There were some rumors that she committed suicide, which would make sense why they kept her death a secret. At that time this was a deadly sin, especially for a catholic. The whole family would have been shunned for it. It this is what happened, it would also give us a reason why she is haunting the place."

"Anything about why she would have killed herself?" Dean questioned.

"I don't know, it really doesn't make a lot of sense. There was this guy, Richard McDonald, that was courting her. He was the oldest son of another very influential family in this town. From what the book says, they were made for each other and very much in love. Matter of fact, the date for their wedding was set for only two after Rebekah disappeared."

Dean pulled his hand through his hair as he leaned back. Satisfied, that his hunger was stilled, his face took on a thoughtful look.

"Why would a girl, who was going to be married to the man of her dreams, kill herself? Something smells fishy here."

"That's what I thought, too. Why don't you let me read the rest of the book and look through the others, see what else I can find."

Dean was about to answer, when they were interrupted by the matronly waitress setting a piece of apple pie in front of Sam. "Here you go, sweety, I saw how much you liked it yesterday. It's on the house." She gave him a motherly pat on the cheek.

The older Winchester had to bite his tongue, not to break out in loud laughter as he watched his brother's face change to an intense red and take on a disturbed expression. Too polite to refuse, he started to slowly eat, almost choking on the first piece. He threw a warning look at Dean, although there was no question in his mind, he would never live this one down.

Dean felt almost sorry for him, but just almost, it gave him too much of an opening to tease his little brother about his appeal to older women to refuse.

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The youngest Winchester spend the rest of the afternoon in the hotel room, continuing his research, while his brother decided to first give the indoor pool and later the gym a try. It was late afternoon by the time he came back to their room.

"Where have you been this long? And please don't tell me you've been working out all this time."

Sam questioned him,though his voice was more teasing, not really upset about his brother's absence. After all, it had given him the peace he needed to read through the books.

"I met someone in the gym, had a couple drinks with her." Dean admitted honestly.

Sometimes Sam couldn't believe his brother's appeal to women. It seemed they were drawn to him like flies to the light. If he was honest, he had to admit,that Dean had an amazing charm and he always treated women with respect. Even though many of them threw themselves at him, he never expected anything they weren't willing to give freely.

"I found some more facts about the Chambers' and McDonald's families. Obviously the families had agreed on two of their children getting married years before any of the kids were old enough. That Richard and Rebekah fell in love was pure luck and made things easier. Though the funny thing is, that Richard got married to Rebekah's younger sister Rachel within one month of her death/disappearance." He stopped for a moment, looking for a comment from his brother. When it didn't come, he continued, "The second book I read, has some excerpts from Rachel McDonald's journal. She is mentioning a strange fact about her family. For generations the oldest girl in the family has always had emerald green eyes. Due to her sister's disappearance/suicide, Rebekah was the last one with this trait."

"This is the strangest thing I've ever heard." Dean confessed, "There gotta be more too it."

Sam was quiet for a moment, remembering the image of the green eyes haunting him again all afternoon with a shudder. He almost mentioned it to his brother but then shook the thought off, it was probably just the intense first impression of the picture still troubling him.

"I wish I would know, but that is all I could find. The girls had a younger brother James Chambers, who took over the family business and mansion. He had only one son, Jason, who in turn had only one son, Thomas. Marlena Chambers was Thomas' daughter. She had two brothers Thomas Junior and Jeffrey but both of them died when they still were children. Rachel and Richard never had any children. That's why there are no further living relatives to inherit the mansion."

"I just wonder, if it is Rebekah, who killed the two men, why did she wait till now? And what does the whole thing have to do with her disappearance?" Dean's mind was working overtime now, trying to find answers.

"We might never know, if she did commit suicide, they probably buried her body on the grounds or in the house, most likely in the basement." Sam stated.

"I guess, that solves it, we wait until it gets dark, find her bones and salt and burn them."

"First we have to find them, which might not be that simply. The basement has to be pretty large and if they are not there, we have to look through the whole property. That's a lot of ground to cover. We might not make it tonight."

His older brother just waved him off, "No problem, we do what we can tonight and if we don't find anything, we'll go back tomorrow. Now, let me take a shower before we get something to eat." He finished, leaving the younger hunter without waiting for any further response.

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It was after 10 PM, when the Impala pulled up to the Chambers mansion. This time Dean chose to park the large car behind the house, afraid someone might notice the lone vehicle, if it was standing in the front. There were no other properties bordering on this side, so it was unlikely for them to be discovered.

While Dean grabbed a shovel and two shot guns out of the trunk, Sam reached for the gas can and salt and also stuffed some extra ammunition into his pocket. After locking the car, they entered through the rear gate, which to their surprise was unlocked, and made their way to the front door. Once again, it took Dean only seconds to open the lock and they slid into the building, pulling the door shut behind them.

While the older hunter locked the door again, Sam had pulled out his flashlight and walked towards the back, where he expected the door to the basement to be. Dean followed his example immediately, trying to catch up with his long legged younger sibling. For some reason something felt off to him. Being an experienced hunter, houses like this one weren't really new to him, yet this one was somehow different. He had a creepy feeling, that made the hairs in the back of his neck stand up. The long shadows, dancing in the low light of the flashlights, didn't seem to match any of the furniture or decorations in the large hall. They almost looked like huge creatures, ready to strike their claws into anyone getting to close to them.

Dean shook his head, he couldn't believe himself, being afraid of the shadows on the wall like a two year old.

"Wait up Sammy." He called after his younger brother, taking larger strides until he reached him.

As it turned out, the door to the basement was exactly were Sam had thought it to be. It was not looked and as he opened, the faint smell of paint reached their noses. Obviously the workers were using it for mixing paint and storing their supplies. Feeling fairly save, they turned the lights on and climbed down the steep stairs to the bottom.

It was clear, that aside from the workers, the basement hadn't been used by anyone in a long time. The area they used for their supplies was covered with a plastic tarp, otherwise everything was dusty and full of spiderwebs. Old furniture, some of them in pieces were standing around everywhere.

"Dude, this looks like it took century to collect all this stuff. We'll never find anything in between all this" Dean muttered.

Sam grinned at him, "It probably did, and now quit your whining and lets get to work. Can't be that hard. I doubt they hid her bones in this." He bent down and lifted up a blanket, that covered an antic cradle.

Dean ignored him and started to shine his light into an old wardrobe with broken doors, then turned his attention to the worn out mattress leaning against it.

Together it took the brothers almost two hours until they had gone over the whole basement, moving most of the items and checking every uneven area in the floor. In the end they went along the walls but also came up empty.

"Guess that's it for down here. I just hope no one will noticed all the stuff having been moved." The older hunter stated, disappointed they didn't find anything. The thought of having to dig the whole yard up didn't make him too happy.

His younger brother obviously was reading his mind, "I don't think it would be a good idea to dig outside before we at least got an idea in which area to dig. Maybe we should go back upstairs and check out Rebekah's room one more time?"

"Yeah, guess you're right." Dean agreed, grabbing the guns and shovel, already halfway up the stairs by the time Sam picked up the gas can and salt and followed him.

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As they entered the large entry hall again, their pace slowed, their path now only lid by the narrow beams of the flashlights. Dean leaned the shovel against the barrister and motioned to his sibling to set his items beside it. Then they walked up to the second floor. As they made their way down the hallway, the older Winchester took over the lead, again overcome by the eerie feeling he had after they first entered the house. Sam followed right on his heels until a sudden dizziness made him stop and hold onto the wall. At the same time a stabbing pain in his head, worse then the one he experienced at the library, almost made him black out.

A moan coming from his brother made Dean turn around. Seeing the younger one sway and hold on to the wall with one hand, while the other was squeezed against his forehead, made him freeze for a moment. Then he caught himself and gently grabbed Sam's shoulders.

"Lets sit you down, kiddo." He said, while guiding his brother down the wall until he was in a sitting position.

Sam brought his knees up to his chest and leaned his head forward, now holding onto his forehead with both hands. Dean slowly rubbed his back, concerned with what happening but at the same time trying to give the younger hunter a moment to recover. To him this had all the symptoms of his baby brother having a vision.

It took several minutes until Sam lifted his head. He felt tired but thankful that the pain was gone. Looking in his brothers concerned eyes, he gave him a small smile, "I'm fine."

"Yeah, I can see that, that's why you almost passed out and held your head like it was going to fall off otherwise. Now cut the BS and tell the truth, did you have a vision?"

"No, that's the weired thing, it felt just like when I have one but I didn't see anything."

Dean could see his sibling was telling the truth, he looked too confused to lie to him.

"Well, lets get out of here for today, we can come back tomorrow."

"No, I'm fine, really." Sam insisted, "Just give me another minute and we can at least check the room out."

Slightly reluctant, Dean finally agreed, "Ok, but the first sign of dizziness or a headache and we make like a tree and leave."

Giving himself a little more time to sit, Sam finally started to stand up. Although the pain and dizziness were gone, he gladly accepted Dean's help until he was steady on his feet. Only when his brother saw he was able to stand and move without swaying, did he let him continue down the hallway, this time walking beside instead of ahead of him.

The room hadn't changed since the day before. Except in the light of the full moon shining through the window onto the portrait, the emerald colored eyes seemed even more alive.

"I wonder, who painted it." Sam mused.

Dean smirked at him, "Yeah, you would, wouldn't you, geek boy."

He walked around the room, then moved to the wall, and started to slide his hands over the wallpaper in an attempt to find any compartments hidden behind it. Sam moved over to the other side of the room doing the same.

After a moment he felt a hand on his shoulder. Expecting his brother, turning, he asked, "Found something?"

Instead he found himself face to face with the girl from the picture, her eyes sparkling in the moon light with a hypnotic intensity. He tried to move look away but found himself drawn in, unable to resist the strange pull. A voice not loud enough to understand started to invade his mind and even as everything in him screamed to run, he found himself frozen to the spot. From somewhere outside his mind he heard his brother's voice but was unable to understand what he was saying. At the same time the voice in his head picked up and he suddenly understood Rebekah's intention, she was going to kill Dean. Still unable to move, he was at her mercy.

"Please, don't." He whispered, a tear running down his cheek.

He saw her move, never breaking eye contact with him and point her hand at his brother. A bright beam streamed from it and hit Dean in his chest. Instantly the older hunter crumbled to the floor in a heap. Then she turned back to him, an almost loving look in her eyes now.

"He will live." She said with a surprisingly soft voice, "But only if you give me what I want!"

Relieved, that she didn't kill Dean, he mouthed with a raspy voice, "Anything!"

Her hand reached out and she gently stroked his cheek, then slid up to his forehead. Sam was surprised how corporal and warm she felt. Her fingertips pressed against his forehead and a pain beyond anything he ever felt before made him drop to his knees. But as fast as it had come, it was gone again and all that was left was a warmth that started to flow through him. As it made its way through his body, it made him feel like he was floating on a soft cloud. The spirits mouth was moving and she was talking to him in a language he didn't understand. She was so beautiful as the words flowed of her full lips, her eyes filled with something he could only interpret as love. How could he ever have thought she wanted to hurt him or his brother. She was good through and through, like an angel that came to take all pain and worry away. He smiled at her, understanding what he needed to do for her.

Her hand now left his forehead and cupped his chin. Leaning forward, she gently kissed his lips. Not breaking the contact, he returned the kiss, first just as gentle, afraid she would shy away, then with more passion as he felt her arms wrap around him.

"I have to go for now my love." her soft voice told him, as he felt her arms letting go of him.

No longer held up by her, he collapsed and fell into the warm oblivion that had loomed in the back of his mind for some time.

TBC

_Did you like it or hate it? Please let me know. Thanks for reading._


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks again for all your awesome reviews. They made me hurry and get this chapter up. I really appreciate every single one of you._

**_Standard Disclaimer applies!_**

Dean was still sliding his hands over the smooth surface of the papered wall, getting nowhere fast. Sure it was important not to miss anything but this was frustrating. He much rather had a spirit to shoot at or a vampire to behead than doing this.

"Found something?" He heard Sam's voice ask.

He turned to answer but stopped in his tracks, when he saw his brother facing the spirit of Rebekah Chambers. Sam's face was pale and he appeared to be frozen in place. Fear gripped the older Winchester as he saw the dazed stare in his siblings eyes. Now, that he got what he wished for just seconds prior, he remembered the shot guns were still laying on the bed in the opposite corner of the room.

"Sam move!" He screamed, hoping his voice would shake him out of his stupor.

Not getting the anticipated response, he was ready to make a run for his weapon, scolding himself for not keeping it with him. His father had ingrained it in him from the very beginning, 'Never be caught off guard." He forgot one of the most essential rules of hunting and it might just cost his brother his life. A pleading whisper and a tear rolling down his brother's face tore him out of his self loathing and made him change his mind about going for the shot gun. He would never make it before she hurt Sam, so instead he stepped forward, ready to attack.

The spirit turned, at the same instant lifting and pointing her hand at him. Too late Dean understood that Sam's pleading hadn't been for his own but for Dean's life. Starring at the beam of light streaming from her hand, he felt the impact of a piercing pain in his chest. Unable to scream or even breath he lost consciousness before he impacted the floor.

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Dean regained awareness with a sudden jolt and was upright before his consciousness fully returned. Only his hand catching a hold of the wall prevented him from unceremoniously falling on his face again. For a minute he stood, his hand still braced against the wall with his head down and his other hand pressed against his forehead in an effort to get his bearings. After a while he tried to remembered to what exactly brought him to this point. Absentmindedly he started to rub over his chest, slowly becoming aware of the ache in his sternum.

"Sammy!" The memory of what caused the ache flashed before his eyes

He swirled around, not thinking about his prior dizziness. Thankfully it was down to a minimum and he lost balance only for a split second, not long enough to fall. The moment he spotted his brother lying on the floor, even that was forgotten. More sliding than walking over to him, he was on his knees before he reached him. For an instant he took in his siblings appearance. Sam was on his stomach, his face turned toward him, his arms down beside him. It looked like he just keeled over without ever bracing himself.

Dean stretched his hand out toward the younger man's neck, at the same time he attempted to control the shaking in his hands but with only limited success. His apprehension eased slightly when he felt the strong thump of a heart beat underneath his fingers. Gently he turned his brother over and cradled his upper body in his arms.

Stroking his hand over a pale cheek, he pleaded, "Come on, Sammy, open your eyes, please."

Getting no response, he stroked his brother cheek again, then slightly padded it, before one more time attempting to rouse him with his voice.

"If you don't open those eyes of yours, I will have to leave you here. You're no longer six, I can't carry your butt out of here." His voice sounded more cheerful then he felt.

Slowly getting desperate by the lack of reaction, he was ready to at least attempt to lift his brother up, when he felt a shiver going through the otherwise limp body. Noting the slight grimacing of his features, he encouraged him, "That's it, just keep trying, you can do it."

Tardily Sam's lids started to flutter and finally a slid of hazel orbs appeared behind heavy covers. Confusion and disorientation clearly visible in his face, he jerked and moved away from Dean's protective grip. The older hunter was unprepared for the move and lost hold of the other as he darted against the wall. Startled by the unexpected reaction, he gently laid his hand on Sam's shoulders.

"It's ok Sammy, it's just me, Dean. She is gone."

The large, fearful eyes and the shaking of his body instantly took him back to a three year old Sammy being deadly afraid of a thunderstorm raging in the middle of the night. Just like then, Dean wrapped his arms around his baby brother and soothed him with a soft voice. Only when he felt the shaking ease, did he let go and looked at him.

"You are all right now?" he questioned.

"Dean?" Sam's voice sounded small and his eyes were still slightly glassed over, "Can we go now?"

"Sure kiddo." Dean assured him.

Getting up first, he pulled Sam to a standing position and pulled his arm around his neck before reaching around his brother's waist with his other arm.

"You good?" he asked.

Sam just nodded, trying to hold on to reality as much as he was capable of. He had no memory of what happened but explicitly trusted his big brother to do the right thing.

It took longer than usually for the two brothers to make their way out of the house and back to the Impala. Although Sam was doing everything he could to help, Dean dragged him more then he walked. His brain just didn't seem to be able to send the right signals out to get his feet moving. On several occasions, like when he had to unlock the door and the path through the back yard was particularly uneven, Sam almost managed to take both of them down. Out of breath and exhausted, the older Winchester was glad when they finally reached the car. Leaning his younger brother against the side, he opened the door and helped him sit down, making sure to protect him from bumping his head against the frame, like a mother would for her child. Managing to get his freakish long legs in proofed more difficult but finally he had Sam settled.

"I'll be right back, just have to get our stuff." He promised, noting Sam was already out for the count again.

Making sure the door was locked before he left, he ran back to the house and picked up the weapons and other supplies. Again his senses went on full alert as soon as he entered the building. There was something absolutely strange going on, much different then just a regular haunting. Hurrying he made his way back. In a very Undean like manner, he jumped into the car, turned the engine over and made the tires screech in his attempt to get his brother to safety as fast as possible.

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Dean turned the Impala into the parking lot of the hotel. It suddenly hit him, that staying on the second floor of a nice hotel could have its downfalls, especially if you had to drag your unconscious sasquatch brother through the main lobby to the elevator. Moving out the car, he ran around and opened the passenger side door. He leaned down and gently shook Sam's shoulder in an attempt to wake him.

"Sammy, you've got to help me here. I need you to wake up, at least until we get to the room."

In a response to his pleading, Sam's eyes opened and turned his head toward his brother. Once again Dean could see confusion and fear written on his face.

"It's ok, we're almost home. Now let's get you out of here and into a soft bed."

He pulled him out of the car, again carefully making sure, Sam wouldn't hit his head on the frame. Leaning him against the side of the impala, he held on with one hand, while closing the door with the other, at the same time allowing his sibling to try and regain some of his balance.

"Now, let's do this." He decided after a moment, wrapping his arm around his waist.

"Too far." Sam's voice was slightly slurred and Dean didn't have to look at him to know he was close to passing out again.

"No, it's not, you can do this, we can do this together." He encouraged him, "we walked further in much worse shape."

"Kay!" Sam mumbled, taking a trusting step forward.

His brother had to hold on with all his might to prevent him from falling. Still, he had a smile on his face. Sam's trust in him never seized to amaze him. It was a gift, that he hoped he would never take for granted.

Together they walked the short way to the entrance and into the lobby. The night clerk threw them a questioning look.

"Do you need help?"

Dean grinned, "Naw, kid can't hold his liquor, three beers and he is out."

The clerk laughed and turned back to the book he had been reading, while the brothers made their way to the elevator. To the older hunter's relieve the doors opened as soon as he pushed the button. Assisting his brother in, he pressed second floor. As the doors closed and the elevator started its upwards ride, Sam's knees buckled and it took all Dean had to prevent both of them to take a nose dive. Thankful that they came to a stop and the doors slid open, he went down on one knee and took his brother over his shoulder in a fireman's carry.

"Sammy, you've got to lay off all those salads if you want me to carry you every time you decide to pass out or even better, just don't pass out anymore."

He carried his brother to their room, struggling for a moment with the door. Putting him down on his bed as gently as possible, he took a second to stretch his achy back out, then checked Sam's pulse and breathing. Satisfied that both were strong and steady, he took his shoes and jeans off before he pulled the blanket out and covered him with it. He then went to work peeling Sam's coat and shirt off. Through all this, the younger man remained placid.

Only when his brother was safely tucked in, did Dean allow himself to sit down on the other bed. He rubbed a hand over his tired eyes, watching the other silently.

"What in the world did she do to you, Sammy?" he quietly ask, more to his own benefit then his brother's. Something was not right here. Rebekah had knocked him out with her 'power beam', but he was alright. Why was Sam still out of it?

Sighing, he took his shoes off and went to get the coffeemaker going. When it was finished, he filled his cup with the hot dark brew, turned on the TV and settled on the bed. It was going to be a long night. He was going to keep a eye on his brother to make sure he was going to be okay.

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Sam woke up to the first rays of sunlight filtering into the room. He smiled, when he saw Dean sitting leaned against the headboard of his bed, his head rolled against his left shoulder in an uncomfortable looking position. Both arms hanging down, with the remote control loosely held in his right hand, an empty cup beside his left. The TV, running on low volume, showed an Infomercial about some kitchen gadget, that promised a meal with all the fixing in 30 minutes or less.

For a sleepy moment he enjoyed the view, before it hit him. There was something wrong with this picture. Dean sleeping in his cloth with the TV on and a coffee cup in his hand usually meant he was actually trying to stay awake to keep watch over him. Suddenly he realized he had no memory of what happened the night before, at least not after they had gone upstairs in the Chambers' mansion.

Getting up, he made his way to the bathroom. Splashing water on his face, he looked in the mirror. Why couldn't he remember? There weren't any signs of a fight on his face, none of his body hurt and he didn't feel dizzy or had a headache. So what happened? Dean, he had to know. Walking back into the room, reluctant to wake his sleeping brother, he was glad to see the older man was moving and opened his eyes on his own.

Upon seeing his brother in front of him, he instantly shot up, "Sam, you're ok?"

"Yeah, fine, just don't remember what happened."

Dean was relieved to see Sam up and about, obviously steady on his feet and bright eyed. The loss of memory concerned him though.

"What's the last thing you do remember?"

"We walked upstairs and down the hallway, after that I'm just drawing a blank." He confessed.

"We met Rebekah, she knocked me out with some kind of beam, that came from her hand. When I came to, you were out of it and I had to drag you home. Really freaked me out, Dude." Dean's eyes expressed some of the worry he felt, "And you have no idea what she did to you?"

Sam sat down and pressed his hands against his temples as he tried to retrieve any memories he might have hidden in his brain. After a while, he looked up, "I wish I knew, then again, I feel fine, so it couldn't have been all that bad."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Dean reluctantly agreed, "I wonder though, why did she attack but not kill us?"

The younger hunter shrugged his shoulders, "That's a good question, makes you wonder, doesn't it."

"More than wonder, it is just plain weird, like she wants something from us."

"Now you are being weird, dude, what would she want from us?"

"Let's see, maybe my famous charm drew her in?" Dean gave his brother a cocky smirk.

Sam rolled his eyes, "Dude, you are way to full of yourself." He turned and headed toward the bathroom, "I better get out of here and take a shower before you make me hurl."

"You're just jealous because you didn't get any of my good looks." Dean called after him, grinning brightly.

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The brothers spend most of the day enjoying the sights of the town. Actually it was Sam enjoying them, while his Dean mostly just tagged along, unwilling to let his brother out of his sight. Taking a tour of several of the historic houses, they found that almost all of them had stories of hauntings attached to them. Most of them were clearly just that, stories, but some actually sounded legitimate. Although even those sounded mostly harmless. Yet it was enough to get the older Winchester at least somewhat excited about the day.

That was until Sam dragged him into the 'Criminal History Museum', that was located downtown. From that point on Dean felt like he'd died and gone to heaven. For hours he dragged his brother through the display of torture devices from all over the world. The extensive weapons exhibit that came next was just up this alley and he spend the longest time explaining some of the history of each of them to Sam. The younger boy couldn't help but smile over the sudden enthusiasm the otherwise so disinterested hunter had developed. It also made him remember, what he had known for all his life, that his older sibling was smarter then he gave himself credit for. His vast knowledge in his field and everything else he was really interested in would impress even a college professor.

Dean felt very much in his element looking at the guns, knifes and other weapons and explaining them to Sam. It also felt good to have his kid brother hang on every word he said and ask tons of questions, just like he did when Dean was the big hero brother and Sammy just a little chubby tod. Never being too impressed with his own wisdom, he still always loved to pass anything he knew on to the younger. After all, it had always been his responsibility to teach Sam.

After continuing to walk through the exhibit, Dean observed his brother was getting more and more distracted. He was still looking at him but didn't really pay attention. At the same time he didn't seem to be able to stand still and constantly moved around in the spot he was standing. He didn't even notice, when Dean quit talking. After a moment of silence and with Sam still fidgeting around, the older hunter put a hand on his arm.

"Dude, what's wrong with you? If you've got to use the restroom just go!" Knowing fully that this was not the reason for his brother's strange behavior but feeling the need to try and make light of it.

Sam gave him a confused, almost lost look, before blurting out, "Can't we wait until later at night to go to the Chamber's Mansion?"

Now it was Dean's turn to look confused. They hadn't discussed their current hunt since leaving the hotel. This totally came out of the blue.

"Sam, we agreed, that we would go right after six tonight, because we would be less likely to run into Rebekah then."

"Yeah, but what if some of the workers do overtime tonight?" There was a whining quality to his voice, that spiked Deans attention.

"No one is going to work late tonight, believe me. It's Friday and payday at that, they are going to be out of there as soon as the clock strikes five." He assured.

"But what if..." he tried again, this time immediately interrupted by his brother.

"No buts, Sam. Now lets go get something to eat and then we can head out to the Mansion."

Dean shook his head in disbelief, something was clearly not right with the kid, he just hadn't figured out yet what it was. Sighing, he decided he would have to keep a close eye on him. It usually never took very long before he found out what was going on, after all, he knew Sammy since he was in diapers.

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Supper had been quiet, with Sam moping and eating very little and Dean trying to observe his brother without being to obvious. It wouldn't have been necessary though, Sam was so caught up in his own thoughts, he was oblivious to anything Dean said or did unless the other actually touched him to get his attention. This went so far, that the older hunter actually suggested that he might be sick and they should delay going back to the house until the next day. This appeared to bring him out of his lethargy for at least a while, as he insisted, that he was fine and his mind was just on the task ahead of them.

Going back into the old building and up to Rebekah's room, Dean halfway expected to be creeped out again, yet today everything felt more normal. Relieved, he allowed himself to relax just a little more, although that didn't mean he let go of his shotgun. Today, if anything happened, he would be prepared. No more mistakes.

This time Dean decided they would work side by side and even though Sam hesitated for a second, he stayed quiet and they continued to work on the wall where Dean had started the night before. Feeling their way up and down around the corner to the shorter wall of the room, the older Winchester never let go of the shot gun, although that way he was only able to work with one hand. They never spoke a word and after a short time, the silence began to feel almost oppressive.

After being at it for about ten minutes, a noise from the doorway startled them and both turned, for a second locking eyes before completing the 180. It took only this instant for Dean to see something like excitement light in his brother. In the next second they once again came face to face with Rebekah Chambers.

Bringing up the gun, that until then had just been loosely perched under his arm, taking the safety off and pointing it at the spirit was one smooth move for Dean. His finger halfway pulled the trigger, when the weapon was yanked from his hands, yet it was not by some supernatural power from the apparition. but by his own brother. Looking at Sam, he didn't find the time to comprehend what he saw in the others eyes before he felt the butt of his own gun hitting the side of his head. For a moment the shock of what just happened kept him standing before he finally crashed to the floor and darkness flooded his senses like a raging river breaking through a levee.

TBC

_Please let me know what you think! Hugs, Vonnie_


	4. Chapter 4

_Thanks to everyone for your great support. Like always, you are what keeps me going. _

**Standard Disclaimer applies!**

Sam just stood there, momentarily paralyzed, as the truth of his action slowly sank in. Eying his unconscious brother, he dropped the shot gun, he was still holding in his hands, like it was a glowing hot iron. The bang from the weapon hitting the ground woke him from his stupor and made him sink down on his knees. His hands moved frantically just above the older hunters limp body, desperately trying to help but unable to make contact with him as he felt overpowered by the idea that he lost his right to touch and comfort the other man ever again.

This was completely his fault, he had done this to Dean. Bringing his arms up, he turned his palms up close to his face and stared at them. These hands had caused the large laceration on the side of his brother's head, they caused the blood flow, that now ran freely down through the short hair and dripped into a growing dark red puddle on the floor.

"D..Dean, I..I'm sorry!" he stammered, a river of tears making it's way down his cheeks. There was no forgiveness for him, not now and not ever.

Just as his devastation threatened to completely overwhelm him, he felt a small but powerful hand grab his and pull him to his feet. Rebekah stood in front of him, still holding on with one hand, while the other came up to his face and her fingers tenderly touched his mouth.

"It is going to be alright, my beloved." She soothed him with a soft whisper.

"But I hurt him. I don't know why, but I did." Sam's voice was filled with the disgust he felt for himself.

"It doesn't matter." She assured, as she let go of him and brought both hands up to his face, cupping it with them.

She drew him close and breathed a gentle kiss on his lips. Then she pulled back just enough to lock eyes with him. Words in an unknown language started to flow from her mouth, making him feel strange and wonderful at the same time. With the last sound leaving her lips, she drew him in again and repeated the kiss from before, only this time with more force and intensity.

When she finally released him, the young hunter regarded her with growing confusion. There was a faint resonance of despair in the back of his mind,yet he was unable to recall what had caused it. The memory of feeling guilty and dejected came to the surface but not enough to hold on to why he had felt this way. Trying to find the answer in his mind it seemed impossible, that there could be any reason for him to feel this way. All he could see now was Rebekah, she was his whole life, everything he existed for.

Taking in her appearance, he couldn't belief how beautiful and flawless she was. Stroking her soft cheeks, he went on and tenderly pulled his long fingers through the loose curls of her glowing red hair. Captivated by her eyes, he pulled her into his embrace and kissed her repeatedly, finding that she returned his kisses with the same enthusiasm. Unable to tear himself away from her, his passion threatened to overwhelm him, when he suddenly felt her hands push him back.

Bewildered he looked at her attempting to pull her back into his arms. Only the flicker of the promise in her eyes prevented him from doing so and reluctantly he accepted the separation. Taking him by the hand and she guided him to the wooden paneling on the far side of the room. Gently she directed his hand to push one of the boards up and in. Another panel just beside it sprang open and revealed a lever embedded into the wall. Again she lead his hand and made him turn it twice in a full circle to the right, then once in a half circle to the left. After completing the task, a pop could be heard from the opposite wall, as another part of the paneling opened. It exposed a small case sitting on a shelve.

"Go my love, open it and bring me what's in it."

Sam followed her command without hesitation. Taking out something wrapped in an oilcloth, he pushed the panel closed and walked back to Rebekah, handing her the item. She rejected it with a wave of her hand.

"No, it is yours to open."

Sam unwrapped the cloth and found it contained leather bound journal. Opening it, he saw the name 'Rebekah Chambers' written on the first page.

"You have to read where the page is marked with a Celtic cross." She instructed him.

He looked through the pages until he found the page she mentioned.

Confused, he glanced at her. "I can't read this, it is not even written in our alphabet."

She took a step toward him and again locked eyes with his, "Look at me and you will understand, my love."

Lost in the bright emerald of her iris', he felt a strange sense of knowledge stream through him and as he glanced back down at the page, the symbol suddenly made sense. He started to read the words, at first hesitant, then with increasing confidence until they flowed from his lips like his native tongue.

As he finished Rebekah leaned forward and kissed him again, then she embraced him and whispered, "Now you belong to me, Sam Winchester. Go and do what you need to do to make me belong to you." With that she walked around the young man and disappeared.

Closing the journal and putting it in the inside pocket of his jacket, Sam turned and reached down to his oblivious brother, Pulling something out of his pocket and sticking it into his own, he made his way out of the room, leaving his still unconscious older sibling without giving him another thought.

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It started with a mild throbbing, which in the beginning was as easy to ignore as the distant rumble of a thunderstorm. But every thunderstorm, that doesn't go away has to come closer and with it the rumble gets louder until it ends in an ear shredding blast. This is what it felt like for Dean Winchester, when his brain slowly made its way back from the shroud of unconsciousness to the unconcealed reality of a hammering headache. Afraid his eyes might be blown out of his head, if he opened them, he kept them closed and just laid there, trying to analyze what had gotten him in this situation in the first place.

Obviously he was lying on a hard surface, from the feel of it a wooden floor. His surroundings were quiet and peaceful and it seemed like there was some kind of light source around, at least from what he could tell without lifting his eyelids. The pain appeared to stem mostly from the left side of his head but the hammer hitting him wouldn't just stop there, no it had to continue to bore away until it reached every corner of his skull. Man, what would he give for one of those knock out oxycodone tablets, they had in their first aid kit. It might not take the pain away, but it certainly would put him out of his misery for at least some time.

Bringing his hands up to the side of his head, he felt the crusted blood and traced it into his hair and from there onto the floor. Feeling the gel-like substance, he decided it might be better to move at least slightly away from it. He scooted himself to the side, slowly opening his eyes at the same time. Grateful, that the throbbing didn't increase, he took a few deep breaths, then sat up. Dizziness hit him instantly but luckily didn't last long enough for him to fall back. After a moment he moved back and leaned against the wall. The room around him was partially lit by the moonlight shining through the window. Taking in his surroundings, he realized he was in Rebekah Chambers room. They came here to find some clues as to where her remains were buried and then she showed up again. He tried to shoot her and Sam hit him with the gun.

Sam hit him, he took the shot gun away from him and hit him with it. Dean's thoughts whirled around as he desperately attempted to make their reality go away. This just wasn't possible, Sam, his Sammy would never hit him, unless...

The thought slammed into him harder then the hammer working on his head, "Unless Rebekah has done something to him."

Only now did he become aware, that he had spoken the words out loud.

"Sammy!" He called out, suddenly afraid of what might have happened to his younger brother.

The lack of response shouldn't have come as a suprise, Sam wasn't in the room and Dean's call hadn't been loud enough to be heard anywhere else. The fear for his brother's safety gave him the strength to get on his feet and rush into the hallway before the dizziness caught up with him and he had to brace himself against the wall. Waiting until the world around him stopped spinning and the pain subsided to a more bearable level, he finally made his way further down the hall, stopping at every bedroom and looking inside.

When he got to the bathroom, he stopped, using the sink to splash cold water on his face. He repeated the procedure several times until he felt slightly better, then moved on to the next room. Disappointed to find every room empty, he walked down the stairs and continued his search downstairs and after that in the basement. Finding no trace of his missing brother, he stopped in the middle of the large entry hall.

"Dammit, Sammy, where are you?" Dean was getting frustrated but even more so scared. Scared that something terrible happened to Sam.

"Think;" He told himself, "where could she have taken him."

There was no doubt in his mind, that his kid brother didn't disappear out of his free will, just like it was clear, that he would have never hit him, if he wasn't under the spirits influence. Just like when they were at that insane asylum in Rockford and the crazy Dr. Elicott possessed Sam. The memory of the incidence, when Sam had shot him with rock salt and later almost with Dean's own gun, if it wouldn't have been empty, made him shiver. Not because of what his brother almost had done to him but more what the whole incident had done to Sam's state of mind. For the longest time he couldn't get away from the guilt of pointing a weapon at his brother and pulling the trigger.

The older Winchester decided, that staying at the mansion any longer made no sense, unless his brother was invisible or there was a secret room in the house, he was no longer here. Making sure he covered both the front and back yard, he made his way back to the car. The sight that greeted him, when he opened the gate was completely unexpected and left him immobile for a minute.

The Impala, his baby, she was gone.

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After he had recovered from the shock of loosing his car, which after closer consideration had to be taken by or at least connected with Sam's disappearance, Dean grudgingly decided his only option was to go back to the hotel and regroup. Without transportation he wouldn't get very far in his search for his younger sibling.

The walk back to their current place of residence took him much longer then it should have. Even though the constant hammering had calmed down to a more tolerable level, combined with the remaining dizziness, it was bad enough to force frequent breaks on him. He was almost overjoyed, when sometimes during his journey, he noticed a 24 hour pharmacy. Without hesitation, he decided it would be worth the extra time, to stop and get something for his headache and a bottle of water.

The pharmacy technician, a busty brunette with a bright smile, whose name tag identified her as Mandy, took pity on him after he had fed her some BS about running into a pole while trying to move out of the way of some drunk driver. Initially she insisted on calling an ambulance for him and it took all of Dean's charm to convince her he was fine. In the end, she settled for cleaning the laceration and taping it together with some steri-strips. Then she handed him the bottle of water and the Ibuprofen he purchased. The young hunter took four tablets and flushed them down with a large gulp from the bottle.

It took him another five minutes to convince Mandy, that it was alright for her to let him go. When she finally let him go, she slipped a piece of paper in his pocket, which Dean later identified as her phone number. It seemed strange, that even when he didn't try, he couldn't get the girls off him. Sam would surely give him shit about it for the longest time. Well, he would've anyway, if he would've been here now.

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Dean continued his way back to the hotel. Fairly soon he noticed, although the medication didn't take the pain away completely, it did take the edge off it. Still, he was glad, when he finally walked through the sliding doors into the reception area. Giving the clerk a casual wave, he made his way to the elevator. This time he had to wait for the car to arrive and if he wouldn't have felt so tired, it would've been faster to take the stairs. After what seemed like forever it finally came and he entered, pushing the second floor button.

Stumbling out as soon as the door opened again, he moved over to the door to their room and reached in his pocket to fish out the key card. To his complete surprise his hand came out empty.

"Dammit, I know I put it in there, where did it go?" He grumbled.

Too tired to go back down, he pulled his cell out and dialed the front desk. Telling the clerk about his dilemma, he was assured, it wouldn't be a problem. It took the kid only a minute to make his way up to join Dean in front of the door.

"I thought your brother was here, I saw him come in several hours ago. Guess he must have left without me noticing." He mused.

His words hit Dean like a rock, increasing his anxiety and leaving him shaking with an urge to get into the room. Thankfully the clerk was already swiping his card and opened the door, letting the older Winchester in.

For the smallest portion of a second Dean stood there, taking in the picture of his lanky younger brother lying listless on the bed, his right arm and leg hanging over the side, his face having the peaceful expression of sleep on it. He wanted to sink down on his knees and thank whatever God was out there, that Sam was here and sleeping. Everything else could be dealt with later.

With the hotel clerk still standing in the doorway, he walked closer to get his brothers long limps into the bed but stopped, when he saw the empty medication container on the floor underneath Sam's open hand, a bottle, still leaking water onto the carpet, right beside it. A sudden panic assaulted him, as he picked the medication container up. The label told him it was the oxycodone they had kept in the med kit for emergencies. He knew it had been at least one third to half full.

The overwhelming fear, that struck him at this moment was only counteracted by his need to save his brother. Leaning over, he checked Sam's breathing and pulse, finding his heart beat too slow and his breathing shallow and tardy. It was this very moment, that the younger hunter chose to take one more breath and then stop. Desperately waiting for the next one and in the end realizing it would never come, Dean pulled the younger man onto the floor, while calling out to the man in the doorway.

"I need an ambulance here last week!"

Then he started to give give his brother the air he was in dire need of, stopping after a moment to recheck his pulse. Realizing Sam's heart had seized beating, he started chest compressions. Forgotten were his prior dizziness, headache and tiredness. All that matter now, was for him to give everything he could and more, so his brother would continue to live.

TBC

_Hope everyone liked it. Please let me know. Hugs, Vonnie_


	5. Chapter 5

_Thanks for your reviews and for sticking with me. I'm having a lot of fun writing this._

**Standard Disclaimer applies!**

Dean had no idea how much time passed since he started CPR on Sam. Time didn't really mean anything, the only thing of any consequence was keeping his brother alive. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered the clerk's voice telling him an ambulance was on the way. There was also an offer to help, but Dean didn't take the time to respond, if he would have, it would have been a 'no' anyway. He wouldn't put Sam's life in the hands of some stranger, that very likely never had done any kind of resuscitation before,probably didn't even know how to spell the word.

Getting to the edge of exhaustion, he felt a hand on his shoulder, trying to pull him away. He shook it off like a bothersome fly, never interrupting or taking his mind of the task, that had become his whole life. Yet a moment later it was back, only this time with more pressure.

"Sir, you need to move so we can help him!" a deep voice insisted.

Finally looking up, the older Winchester noted a middle aged man kneeling beside him. He wore a uniform and his name tag identified him as 'Barry Jones, Paramedic'. Well aware that his younger brother needed expert help as soon as possible, Dean reluctantly let the older man pull him away and watched as he and his partner took over.

"What happened?" Barry asked.

"He overdosed with oxycodone, I don't know how long ago he took it but there were at least ten tablets left in the bottle." Dean confessed, his voice now shaking, as the adrenaline high was starting to wear off.

He sat down on one of the beds and watched as one of the two men continued rescue breathing and chest compressions, while the other pulled a hard plastic case off the gurney.

After the moment he heard, "Clear!"

The jolt of electricity hitting the flaccid body, made the older brother jerk at the same time as Sam's back arched up. The same thing happened again with each additional shocks. Every disappointed "Still nothing!" from one of the paramedics, made Dean Winchester die a little bit more, as he came to the conclusion Sam might not come back. Just as he felt his life slip away, the almost screamed, "Got 'im back!", ran through him like electricity and gave it back to him.

"He/s got a rhythm, kinda erratic and a little slow but at least it's there." Barry announced, then turned to his partner, "Jim, start an IV with Normal Saline wide open, while I intubate the kid."

"Sam, his name is Sam." Dean couldn't bear the thought, that his brother might become some nameless nobody to the two paramedics.

Instantly picking up on the reason for the younger man's distress, Barry corrected himself, "I'll intubate Sam. We have to get him out of here ASAP!"

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A half hour later Dean found himself sitting in the Emergency Department of "St. Luke's Memorial Hospital". For a change it wasn't on an uncomfortable plastic chair but rather he was lying on the relatively comfortable exam beds in one of the treatment rooms. Although at this point his mind was too focused on his brother to appreciate the locale of his waiting.

Paramedic Barry Jones, with the eyes of long experience, had noticed the poorly taped laceration on the side of the hunter's head and the large discoloration, which now surrounded it. Without delay, he had ushered him into the back of the ambulance, insistent Dean needed to get checked out.

After arriving at the hospital, Sam had been rushed away, while a kind nurse took Dean into the room, where he was still residing now. She had brought all the necessary paperwork and a young intern with her. While she asked questions and had the older brother sign, the physician checked out the head wound, which elicited several low moans from Dean.

"This should be okay after I put in a few stitches. What did you do? Ran into a bus?"

Dean fed him the same story, he had given the pharmacy tech earlier, too upset to think of anything else.

"Do you know what's happening with my brother?" He added with growing anxiety.

"No, but I can find out after I put those sutures in." The young doctor assured him.

"Can't wait that long." Dean was ready to jump of the bed, when the nurse put a soothing hand on his thigh.

"Don't worry, why don't you let Dr. Thomas here fix you up, while I go and find out about your brother."

She walked out and left Dean in the hands of the intern, who was getting a suture kit ready. Surprising the hunter, he sutured the laceration fast and efficiently. Holding a mirror in front of Dean's face, he let him look at his work, before he taped a dressing over the laceration.

"I do this many times every day. Mostly children, who got hurt playing or household injuries. Once in a while a minor car accident or a bar room fight." He smiled.

"Sorry, was I that obvious?"

"No, I'm just used to it, people think, because I'm still an intern, I don't have any skills. Which actually is true for a lot of things, but don't tell anyone!" He added with a wink

For the first time Dean actually had a small smile on his face, "I won't." He promised.

"I want you to have a head scan, just to make sure, although I don't think there is anything seriously wrong."

"No." Dean left no doubt, that he meant it, "I'm not going anywhere until I know Sam is alright."

Immediately realizing, he would never be able to change Dean's mind, Dr. Thomas didn't even try to have him consent to further tests right now..

"I guess, it can wait until later."

It was at this time, that the nurse returned. Her face was unreadable, causing Dean more anxiety. Yet before he could talk, she started to explain.

"Sorry, I couldn't find out a lot, they are working on stabilizing him, but it sounds like he is holding his own right now." Again she put her hand on his thigh, her grey eyes looking at him with compassion and understanding.

It wasn't really good news, but at least it let the older Winchester know, Sam was still alive and any minute he lived was another minute for the doctors to help him.

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It was at least two, maybe three hours later, when the door opened and a man in blue scrubs entered. He was only about 5'6" and slightly pudgy looking. His facial features seem slightly out of proportion and Dean couldn't help it, but the curly grey hair reminded him of Larry from the 'Three Stooges'. Yet the instant the man started talking, he could hear the warmth and intelligence in his voice.

"Mr. Watson, I'm Dr. Jason Lithman, I just treated your brother."

It took only his one sentence to bring back an onslaught of the anxiety the young hunter had been fighting so hard to supress for the last few hours. Although he tried, he couldn't hold back the shaking that ran through his body.

"Sam is alive." The doctor assured him, reading the fear in the younger man's wide green eyes, "But I have to confess, he didn't make it easy for us."

Only mildly relieved, Dean took a few deep breaths until he was sure he had his voice under control.

"You said he is alive, but is he going to be alright?" Even with all the trying there was a slight hitch in his voice.

"I can't guarantee anything but I think he will be. At least physically. We were able to counteract most of the narcotics in his body. His EEG looks good and we are weaning him off the vent as the effect of the oxycodone is wearing off and his body is starting to pick up the task of breathing on its own."

"Can I see him now?" After hearing what he needed to hear, Dean's only focus now was on being with Sam.

For a moment Dr. Lithman smiled, fully understanding the younger man's desire, then his face turned serious again. "Mr. Watson, your brother was lucky this time, but this wasn't just some halfhearted cry for help. The type and amount of drugs of he took, tell me this was a deadly serious attempt to take his own life. People in Sam's state of mind usually will try again and again until they succeed. He needs professional help."

"Doctor, right now, the only thing Sam needs, is me by his side. Everything else can wait." Dean insisted.

"You're right." The older man relented, "I'll take you to him, but only under the condition, that you will have that head scan after you've seen your brother."

The look on the elder Winchester's face was priceless and made the physician smirk, "You didn't really think you could get away from us medical professionals. We are a close knit society."

To this even Dean couldn't help but laugh.

"I guess you've got me there. Agreed, I let you do that scan."

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Dean spent a full hour with Sam. It never was easy for him to see his baby brother lie in a hospital bed but this time seemed worse than ever before. He wasn't hurt because of some freak accidence, illness or "job related' injury. He was in this bed, pale as death, connected to IV lines, monitors and a ventilator because he tried to end his own life. At this moment Dean realized, he wasn't ready to deal with this thought yet and decided to give himself some time. He would deal with it later, after Sam was awake and they could talk about what really happened.

After his hour was up, he fulfilled his promise and let the doctor do his scan. It came as no surprise to him, that the test results came back negative. He had worse injuries without any treatment at all. Glad to have the 'close knit medical society' off his back, he returned to Sam's room, stopping at the family launch to pick up a some coffee.

One of the nurses was checking on his brother, when Dean walked back in the room. She gave him a smile before she turned back to her patient, while the older hunter sat down and took a sip from his cup , then picked up the patient information brochure from the night stand. After a moment a noise beside him made him look up.

"Excuse me, Dr. Lithman wanted me to let you know, that Sam is improving." The nurse said, another smile brightening her face, "He was here a little while ago, while you had your test done and then was called away to another emergency. He gave orders to turn the vent down. It looks like your brother is starting to breathe on his own and as his respiration increase, we will continue to turn the vent down even more. The doctor is fairly certain he can take it out by morning."

"Thanks, that's great news." Dean couldn't explain, why he didn't feel more thrilled by the news. He should be jumping for joy, yet in reality he was too torn up by the events of the last evening to feel anything else then dread. Lost in his own thoughts, he didn't notice the nurse quietly leaving the room.

What in the world made Sam do this? Was it because he hurt him? Or did it have something to do with Rebekah Chambers' spirit having control over him? Dean tended to think it was the latter, Sam would never commit suicide. The only exception being, him believing he killed Dean.

"Sammy, I wish, I knew what's going on." he leaned over to hold on to his brother's hand, not just for his own sake, but also in the hope, that Sam would feel his present and know he was still alive.

Quietly he wiped a tear out of the corner of his eye. He knew, the hard part was still to come. He needed to get Sam to talk and that wouldn't be easy. His brother had the uncanny ability to clamp up at the worst times.

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Morning dawned and brought with it a powerful thunderstorm, which woke the older Winchester brother with a start. Although he had told himself, he wouldn't succumb to his tiredness, his body had overruled him and after fighting for the longest time, he had slipped into a peaceful, if not completely comfortable slumber. Now he paid for it with a stiff neck and pain in his rear from sitting on the hard chair beside his brother's bed. Standing up, he stretched and rolled his head, making the vertebrae in his neck crack as they realigned.

Another loud thunder, that sounded more like a direct hit and made the lights flicker, startled him. Instinctively he went into protective mode, taking a step closer to the bed. He almost missed the shiver running through his brother's body the first time, but it was more obvious on the second time, as it turned into something that looked more like convulsions. At the same times the hazel orbs flew open and Sam's hands moved up to the tube in his mouth, tearing the IV line out of the back of his hand in the process.

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The monotone but rhythmic beeping sound was way too far away for him to identify and he wasn't really trying. As a matter of fact, it was sort of comforting and kept him lulled in the safety of the darkness. Sure, ever since he'd been little, he had been taught to fear the dark, but the reassuring pressure of a hand holding his let him know, that Dean was here. He never been scared, if his big brother was around, because there was nothing to be afraid of.

The sudden crashing sound removed the warm touch from him and he shuddered, his mind to muddled to wrap around what was happening. For a moment it was quiet again, only the beeping, slightly louder now, impregnating the silence. Ready to retreat, he felt the emptiness of his hand and it left him with a feeling of loss. And then the world around him exploded, making a shiver run through him. Struck by panic, he became aware of something obstructing his airway. He tried to breath but wasn't able to, what ever was in his throat made it impossible.

'Dean, they've hurt Dean.' The thought surged through his mind with power and he opened his eyes, in an attempt to see, whoever was hurting his brother. He struggled to tear the obstruction out of his throat. Initially his vision was too blurry to see anything, but as it cleared a face came into view and strong hands held on to him.

He wanted to scream out as he recognized his brother, but the lack of breathe and the object in his throat made it impossible. Why didn't Dean help him, didn't he know he couldn't breath? Maybe he was dreaming and Dean wasn't really here. Maybe he was alone and dying, just wishing for the older boy to save him? But then he heard it, the deep, soothing voice he would recognize anywhere.

"Calm down Sammy, you're on a vent. It's breathing for you, so just relax and let it do it's job. I already called for the doctor."

Confusion washed over the younger man, he tried to remember what happened, yet it escaped him at this time. It didn't really matter right now, Dean was here and he was safe. Slowly he relaxed and adjusted his breathing to the rhythm of the ventilator, focusing his eyes on his brother.

"That's it, you're doing fine Sammy." the older hunter encouraged him, relieved Sam started to calm.

Hearing the door open, he looked up and saw Dr. Lithman and a nurse enter the room. Against his will, he was shoved out of the way, which immediately caused another anxiety attack in his kid brother.

"No." He objected, "Sam needs to see me, it will keep him calm!"

It took the physician only a second of observing his patients reaction, to see that Dean was right.

"Alright, why don't you come here and explain to him, that I'm going to check him and than take the tube out."

He did as requested, moving back towards the bed and holding on to Sam's shoulders.

"You're fine, kiddo, Dr. Lithman here is going to take the tube out after he makes sure your breathing is alright. Don't worry, I'm right here with you." He smiled as Sam's features started to loose the panic written in them.

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Thirty minutes later Sam was breathing on his own, his throat irritated and sore but at least he no longer need the assist of the machine. The doctor had been happy with his assessment and had ordered the nurse to reinsert the IV and get some labs drawn. Completing her task, she left and came back with a cup of ice chips and a spoon. She fed a couple of them to Sam, who felt like he never tasted anything as heavenly, as the cold moisture ran down his throat. She instructed Dean to give his brother a few spoons full every few minutes before she went on to check on her other patients.

Dr Lithman stayed for several more minutes, as he carefully watched Sam, making sure his breathing was steady and the oxygen through the nasal canula would be enough to keep the younger Winchester's blood oxygen level at the desired level. Satisfied with what he saw, he excused himself, leaving the brothers to themselves.

For a while it was silent, as Dean searched for the right words. It was Sam, who finally broke the quiet.

"What happened? You're hurt." His voice still hoarse from the intubation, he pointed at the dressing on the side of his brother's head and the purple bruises surrounding the area.

"You don't remember?" Dean wasn't sure. if he should feel worried or relieved.

Sam didn't have to say it, the look in his eyes said it all. He had no memory of the previous evening.

"We went back to the Chambers Mansion to find some clues and..."

The younger man interrupted him, worried by the mild paleness of his brother's face, "Did Rebekah do this to you?"

He read Dean's hesitation as a yes and it instantly brought the firs protectiveness out of him, the same that his older brother always refused to acknowledge, because he felt it was his job to look out for his younger sibling and not the other way around.

"I'm going to kick that bitch's butt. She is not going to mess with you."

Against his will, Dean had to grin, Sam had no idea how much he sounded like him right now.

"Do you remember anything about what happened to you?" the older hunter didn't want to press too hard, but at the same time felt the need to know, why Sam had taken the narcotics.

Sam didn't answer, his eyes closed and for a moment Dean was afraid he went back to sleep. Just when he was ready to give his brother the rest he needed, the younger hunter looked up at him.

"I'm trying but it is just out of my reach. I remember the museum, you explaining the weapons..." He trailed off, lost in the desperate attempt to recall what happened. "I just don't know, Dean. Why don't I remember? What happened to me?"

The sadness in the younger man's eyes almost broke Dean's heart. Sam had no idea, he attempted suicide. And to think of it this way, was it really a suicide attempt then? Dr. Lithman was a good doctor, Dean really believed that, but he would never understand what happened. He was going to commit his baby brother to a psych ward to give him help for something he didn't really did.

Suddenly the elder Winchester knew what he needed to do. As soon as he was sure there wouldn't be any complications, he would take his brother and get the hell out of Dodge. Never stop until there were at least two states between them and the Chambers Mansion.

TBC

_Thanks for reading again. No evil cliffies this time, but there are more to come. Please sent me a note, so I know, if you still like it. Hugs, Vonnie_


	6. Chapter 6

_Thanks for the beautiful reviews. I really love all of them._

**Standard Disclaimer applies!**

Dean glanced over at his brother, who was sleeping in the passenger seat beside him. As he reached over and pushed some of the too long bangs out of Sam's face he couldn't help the smile that appeared on his face. Not that he was really disturbed by the stray hair, in fact, the younger man had been sleeping peacefully ever since right after they had left the hospital. That was five hours ago now. But after almost loosing him to a freaky drug overdose/suicide attempt, Dean felt the need for this contact to make sure Sam was indeed still alive.

"You're loosing it, Winchester." He scolded himself with a grin on his face.

If Sam would do anything like this to him, he would call it a 'chick flick moment' and push the younger boy away. Glad for small favors, in this case his deeply sleeping brother not noticing the tender gesture, he focused his eyes and mind back on the road. His goal was to drive another two to three hours before stopping, far enough away from Rebekah and anything else that might have an influence over Sam.

This whole hunt had turned into a complete disaster. The older Winchester couldn't understand how this spirit could hold so much power over Sam even after he left her presence. It was one thing to make him hit his own brother while they were in her presence, but to have him take a overdose of drugs several miles away, that seemed odd. Unless, she wasn't bound to the premises of the mansion.

Dean shook his head, this would be a new one, something that would defy anything he'd ever seen or heard in all his years in hunting. And if this was really the case, would Sam be save, even if he was several hundred miles away? He had to believe he would be. It was just not possible any other way.

The hunter wasn't a man, who left anything to chance though. His motto was 'shoot first, ask questions later'. In this case, that meant, he took his cell out and made several calls to fellow hunters to find out, if they'd encountered anything like this before. After getting a negative answer and a promise to check into it from all of them, he made one last call. This time he got only a voice mail, not that he expected anything else. He hesitated for a fraction of a second before he started to talk.

"Dad, it's Dean, when you get this message, please call me. There is this hunt we are involved in and...,it's kinda weird,... there is just something off. Don't know how to explain it..., anyway, I..., we really need your help. Please, dad, call me!"

He hung up, not really satisfied with the message he left but also not sure what to say. Their father would probably think he finally lost his marbles.

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A few hours later Dean stopped at a rundown roadside motel. After he checked them in, he drove over to the parking spot closest to their room and carefully put his hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Hey sleeping beauty, time to wake up, your prince charming is here to take you to his castle."

Giving the younger man a moment to wake up, he got out and opened the passenger side door. By that time he caught a bleary eyed look from Sam.

"Where 're we?"

"Some dump out in nowhere land." Dean grinned, then hauled him to his feet.

Steadying him, he helped him into the room and sat him on the bed furthest from the door. Running back out, he got their bags and dumped them on the floor, before closing and locking the door.

"You ok?" He asked

"Yeah, just tired." Sam assured him, before reluctantly adding, "and maybe just a little nauseated."

He had been vomiting a few times at the hospital and Dr. Lithman had explained this was a common side effect of the Narcan, the drug he had received to counteract the narcotics in his system. He had given Sam an injection of Compazine to counteract some of the nausea, but warned it could come back any time. At the same time he had told Dean he'd arranged for his brother to be transferred to the Psych Unit after lunch.

This had been, when the elder Winchester took the first opportunity given to get Sam out of the hospital. It had been a lot easier then he'd anticipated. Half the staff had been on lunch break, the other half was busy with taking care of handing out food and taking care of the bigger or smaller needs of their patients. Dean had been grateful though, that his brother hadn't asked any questions about why they needed to leave in such a hurry. He had cooperated with the older hunter assisting him to get dressed and walking him out to the car without complaints.

Dean was brought back to the present by the retching sounds coming from Sam. Grabbing the trash can and holding it in front of his brother's face in one smooth move, he sat down beside him and started to rub the other man's back. Together they sat there for several minutes, before Sam quit heaving and relaxed.

"Why don't you lie down, I get you some water." Dean instructed him.

"Thanks." Sam wiped the tears the exertion caused from his face but stayed sitting.

A minute later he gratefully took the glass from the other man's hand and swallowed a few small sips before handing it back. He was ready to go back to sleep, exhaustion pulling him down, but there was something on his mind he needed to clear up before he could.

"Dean, what happened to me? You still haven't told me."

Damn, the older Winchester hadn't been prepared for this question to come at this time. It was time for some major bs, "Rebekah fed you an overdose of oxycodone."

He justified the lie by telling himself it was at least in a way it was true.

Sam stared at him with disbelieve, "How? Where did she get the drugs from? Go to a pharmacy?"

The sarcasm in his voice told Dean he needed to come up with a better explanation fast or he would be caught.

"Don't know how, she knocked me out first, but I know where she got the oxy from. It was in my coat."

"Since when do you carry that stuff in your coat pocket?" The doubt in his voice was obvious.

Dean hung his head, unable to meet Sam's eyes. His voice was slightly shaky and he hardly was able to hide the fear in it. Fear that his brother would see right through him and make him confess what really happened.

"I'm sorry, I should have told you but I had a killer headache in the morning, so I took one and put the bottle in my pocket. I was afraid it would come back."

For once, the older hunter's body language worked to his advantage, as Sam took the hanging head and shaky voice as a sign of self loath. It was also clear that he wasn't thinking straight yet, or he would have remembered that taking this kind of drug for a headache was totally out of character for his brother and that Dean didn't show any signs of pain, at least nothing that would have required a narcotic, in the morning. Instead his brotherly instinct came out with all it's power.

"Dean, it's ok, this is not your fault, you couldn't have known. You saved my life, that's all that matters. You can't blame yourself for something you didn't have control over."

Sam rubbed his eyes, trying to keep himself awake as tiredness threatened to overwhelm him. He couldn't go to sleep now, not before he was sure Dean wasn't blaming himself anymore. He knew his brother well enough to comprehend he would willingly take responsibility for anything that happened to Sam while he was around and in most cases even while he wasn't.

"Please, Dean!"

The elder brother looked up when he heard the begging and tiredness in Sam's voice. The dark circles around the hazel eyes and the paleness of his skin just enhanced the picture of fatigue exhibited in front of him. He had to end this right now, so Sammy would finally get the rest he needed.

"I guess you're right, there wasn't really anything I could do. I'm just glad you're alright." He hoped his words would be enough to end the conversation for now and ever, "Now, why don't you get some sleep, you look like hell."

He pulled the blankets back and helped his brother out of his shoes, then watched as Sam laid down, without bothering to take his cloth off. There was no doubt, he was out like a light as soon as he hit the pillow. Dean smiled and put the blanket over him before he walked into the bathroom to shower.

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Throughout the next few days Dean kept a close eye on his brother, hardly ever letting him out of his sight. Although he had never seen or heard of it, he still wanted to be rather save then sorry, when it came to make sure Rebekah's influence didn't expand beyond her home and maybe the town.

He also made sure that all drugs were well hidden and kept all weapons locked in the trunk of the car. Knowing that Sam kept the spare key in the pocket of his coat, he took it out while the other hunter was in the shower. Now he just had to hope, there wouldn't be a reason for Sam to need the key, because then he would have to find an explanation for it's disappearance. He planned on putting it back in it's place as soon as he was sure things would be ok.

And there wasn't any indication for him to think differently. Sam was slowly recovering, loosing the nausea and constant tiredness, that accompanied him the first couple days. He still couldn't remember anything but didn't asked any further questions, which made Dean breathe a little easier.

He did miss the Sam from before the hunt though. The one that had finally found some joy and happiness again. Now he was back to nightmares and sleeplessness at night and irritability and poor appetite in the daytime. Yet having seen the lighter side of his little brother come through after such a long time, Dean was optimistic it would come through again eventually.

After spending three days in the shabby motel in a town with nothing more than a gas station, a rundown bar and a diner that offered only four items on the menu, Dean was getting itchy for another hunt. But he also knew, it wouldn't be possible for him to keep a constant eye on his brother while they researched a new hunt. At least not without Sam getting suspicious. So instead he decided to clean the guns again, making sure he left the ammo and knifes locked up in the trunk.

After a finishing the last weapon, he took it out to the car. Walking back into the room, he looked over to his brother, who was sitting across from him at the table, seemingly engrossed in reading something on the screen of his lab top.

"Hey Sammy, you up for some grub?"

The other man hardly looked up but gave him a "Mhm, sure!", before he went back to reading.

Dean took his leather jacket from the back of the chair and turned to leave. In the doorway he stopped and looked back.

"You coming?" he asked.

"Huh?" Sam gave him a questioning look.

The older brother shook his head, only Sam could be so immersed in something, that he would answer a question without hearing what it was. He smirked and put his fingers together, putting them to his mouth, then made chewing motions.

"You know, go eat food, like fries, burgers or for you salad, veggies, fruits and all that healthy stuff."

For a moment there was a smile on the younger hunters face before he turned serious again, "Nah, just bring me something. I want to finish reading this."

For a moment Dean hesitated, unsure if he should leave his brother, but then he decided it would take him only a few minutes to run across the street, get the food and come back. After all, Sam had been fine and he was probably just being overprotective.

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Sam continued reading the article on ancient myths and legends he'd stumbled across, while looking for something to hunt. He knew his brother to well to not have noticed that the other man was getting restless. And while he appreciated the protectiveness his sibling showed, he also felt perfectly fine and up to anything they would come across. Captivated by what he was reading, he was glad Dean didn't insist on him coming to get food.

He almost finished the article, when the screen went black. Pushing several buttons first, he checked the power source, only to find it plugged in and the light indicating it was working. Confused and frustrated he turned the lab top off, ready to reboot it, when he felt a hand stroking his cheek. Turning his head, he found himself looking into the emerald eyes of Rebekah Chambers. He wanted to jump up but her gentle touch held him down. Staring into those intense orbs, he felt reality beginning to melt away. His wants and needs focused on the beautiful woman before him and he knew, he had to listen to her.

"Sam Winchester, my love, I have searched for you. Don't you remember, you belong to me. I have given you my live, now you have to give me yours, so I can belong to you."

One hand continued to caress his cheek, while she used the other to draw him close. He felt the moistness of her full lips as they touched his. His mind, muddled just a second ago, now felt clear and focused. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her, stroking her silken hair with the back of his hand and taking in the intoxicating scent of her perfume.

Finally she slipped out of his hold and looked at him, "You must come with me, my sweet love, to complete, what you started."

He felt her hand hold on to his and pull him up. Willingly he followed her lead into the bathroom. She came to a stop in front of the sink and again he felt her fingers stroke him, as her eyes locked with his.

"You need to break the glass to unlock the power. Let it give you strength."

Without hesitation he grabbed the glass from the sink and smashed against the edge, breaking it effectively. Holding on to the pieces, he looked at Rebekah. Her smile assured him, he was doing right. She held his gaze and drew him in once again.

When she released him, she whispered, "I have to leave you, but only for a short while. We will be together again soon."

He didn't want her to go, yet he knew she spoke the truth. Soon nothing would ever separate them again.

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Dean was whistling as he entered the room holding two bags filled with the biggest burger he'd ever seen and a generous portion of fries for himself and a large steak salad for his brother. In his other arm he held two large sodas. Giving the door a kick with his foot, he set the drinks and food on the table.

For a moment it worried him that Sam was no longer working on his lab top and was nowhere else in the room, but then he noticed the closed bathroom door.

"Sammy, food's here, come and get it."

Looking into one of the bags, he pulled out his food, before pushing the other bag towards his brother's side of the table. He took in the smell and look of the large burger before taking a big bite and savoring it like it was the best thing he'd ever eaten.

"Damn, gotta give it to small town diners, they got the best food." Looking up, he noticed, the bathroom door was still closed, "Sammy, did you fall in?"

Not getting a response, he suddenly felt the hair in the back of his neck stand up and a chill ran through him. He tried to tell himself there was nothing to be alarmed off, yet he couldn't help the dread, that filled him as he walked towards the door. He knocked, trying to steady his voice.

"You got big business going on in there?" The attempted humor sounding slightly off.

Again, he didn't receive an answer, so he turned the door knob. To his surprise the door wasn't locked and he pushed it open. To call the sight in front of him horrific would have been a more than a slight understatement. Sam was standing beside the sink, his dark hair disheveled, his face and arms smeared with blood. His short sleeved t-shirt was cut to pieces and hung in shreds off him, the white fabric discolored with large red stains. Both his arms were hanging down and Dean noticed the clenched fists, shards of glass sticking out from them and blood dripping down to the floor, pooling into two slowly growing puddles.

Instantly wanting to storm to the aid of his brother, he got stuck on the look on Sam's face. There was a smile on his lips and an expression of peace in his eyes, that scared Dean more then any fear or pain he'd ever seen in the handsome features.

It took Sam's eyes rolling back and his body becoming flaccid, for the older Winchester to become animated again. He jumped forward, grabbing his brother under his arms before he could hit the floor. For a moment he struggled for balance until he finally was able to let both of them sink down gently.

It was then, that he noticed the deep cuts in Sam's wrists, blood welling from them with every beat of his heart.

Desperately looking for something to stem the flow of blood flow, his eyes fell on some towels on the shelf above the toilet. Tearing them down, he wrapped them around Sam's wrists, before running out and grabbing the first aid kit from his duffel. He hurried back and replaced the towels with pressure bandages. Satisfied, that the bleeding at least slowed, he gave his brother a fast once over.

All the other cuts were more superficial and most already started to scab over. His heart beat was fast but strong and so was his breathing. Slightly more at ease, that his brother was in no immediate danger, his first priority was to get Sam back to the bed. He could see, that the lacerations on his wrists would have to be stitched up to assure the bleeding would seize.

Pushing him up to a sitting position elicited a moan from the other boy's lips. His eyes opened and he stared at Dean.

"Hey kiddo, we need to get you out of here, think you can help me?"

"I have to go." Sam's gaze was directed to the wall, yet Dean was sure, that wasn't what he was seeing.

"Go where?" He asked, trying to hide the fear in his voice.

"Rebekah, I have to make her mine." He smiled as his lids closed and his head lolled against his brother's shoulder.

The trepidation Dean had felt ever since entering the bathroom, only intensified with these words. It took all his strength not to panic. Instead he hauled his brother up and with some effort managed to move him out to the bed. Going back to the bathroom for the kit, he moved as fast as he could to suture the lacerations. Satisfied with his work, he cleaned the glass pieces from the smaller cuts on Sam's hands, before applying antibiotic cream and wrapping everything.

After he was finished he gave himself just a moment to still the shaking of his hands, before he started cleaning his brother's arms, upper body and face. He found two larger cuts on his chest that he sutured, on all others he just had to use the cream and band-aids.

Slowly he allowed himself to collapse down to the floor, his back relaxing against the other bed. Letting his eyes rest on his kid brother, he felt a complete sence of hopelessness overwhelm him. Never in his life had he felt this desolate before, not even when Sammy left for Stanford.

How was he supposed to keep his brother save from Rebekah, while at the same time finding a way to get rid of her? Even for Dean Winchester this appeared to be an impossible task.

TBC

_This was kinda difficult to write, don't really know why, but it just was. So please let me know what you think. Hugs, Vonnie_


	7. Chapter 7

_Thanks for your support, you guys continue to be the best. This chapter is a little shorter and no evil cliffie again but I wanted to post this before I go in to have back surgery this afternoon. Right now I'm a little nervous, but I'm praying everything will go fine and I finally will be rid of the pain. Hugs, Vonnie_

**Standard Disclaimer applies!**

Dean woke up with a start. He had fought against falling asleep all night, several times running to the bathroom to splash water on his face or stretching his tired muscles and slapping himself to keep himself from nodding off. It worked until around five, when he'd started to drift off again, and this time he didn't wake up again.

Drowsily, he looked around, trying to figure out what happened and why he was sitting on the floor. The instant his gaze fell upon his sleeping brother, the events from the previous day hit him with overwhelming power. All the despair and isolation, he felt then filled him again.

Sam hadn't moved once throughout the night. On several occasions Dean had checked to make sure his brother was indeed still breathing. Looking at him now, the older Winchester was certain, he hadn't moved during the time he had dozed off either. He was still in the same position as last night. Checking the bandages on his hands and wrists, he was satisfied, that there were only a few dots of blood visible on the outside of the gauze. The sutured cuts on his chest had slightly more drainage but not enough for Dean to worry. Neither of the other injuries seemed to show any signs or symptoms of infection either.

At least one battle won, but that sure didn't mean anything in the war that was yet to come. He needed to come up with a plan for when his little brother woke up. What was he going to tell him? For a moment he struggled with coming up with an idea, when Sam took any decisions out of his hands by opening his eyes without any prior signs of waking.

He sat up and for a moment he just stared at his hands, the expression on his face confused and almost dazed. When his lids lifted and he laid eyes on his older sibling, his features suddenly became first distorted, then angry.

"You brought me back, why didn't you let me go?" He screamed, making Dean shudder.

Taken aback by Sam's anger, he stood up from where he had been sitting. He never heard this much hate in his brother's voice before. What was even worse was, that Sam's hate was clearly directed at him.

Suddenly the younger man jumped up and tried to make his way around him, struggling with the older hunter, as he found his way blocked.

"Sam, you need to snap out of it. You're safe, I'm going to take care of you." Dean tried to soothe his sibling, attempting to get him to lie down again.

The results were devastating, because Sam struggled even more.

"I need to leave, I need to make her mine!" He insisted, "I can't loose her, don't you understand? I belong to her. "

The tears rolling down Sam's face and the utter desperation in his eyes almost killed the older man. This just couldn't be real, he was loosing his baby brother and he had no idea how to save him.

"Sammy, please, you need to listen to me." Dean was pleading now, holding on to the others shoulders, "You don't belong to Rebekah. She is dead, she is a spirit and we need to salt and burn her."

"No!" The cry tore through the small room like thunder, "You will do no such thing, I won't let you. I belong to her and I will make her mine."

Sam's fist came up and made contact with a surprised Dean's jaw. Off balance, the older Winchester landed on the floor and before he had a change to recover, found himself on the receiving end of a vicious kick in the stomach. More out of reflex, he grabbed on to the leg that had kicked him and because Sam was already on the move to get out, tripped him and made his face kiss the floor.

Even after being on the receiving end of his brother's attack, Dean was still not ready to hit his brother, He pulled himself along the larger man and tried to hold him back, as he attempted to crawl toward the door. He expected Sam to continue to fight him and maybe trying to kick or , but to his surprise there was no more resistance. Instead Sam turned to his side and curled up into fetal position, violently sobbing.

"I have to make her mine, I have to...,I have to..., I have to...!" His eyes staring at something only he could see, he repeated the words like a mantra, continuing even after Dean pulled him into his arms, even after his sobbing stopped and even as he slipped into unconsciousness they were still on his lips.

Holding his now limp brother in his arms, Dean pressed his face against the thick mop of brown hair and suddenly all of his own held back emotions spilled out of him. No longer capable to control them, he gave his tears free run.

This wasn't his Sammy anymore. He lost his brother and at this point he had no idea how to bring him back.

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As difficult as it was, Dean knew he had no choice but to handcuff Sam to the bed. Luckily the headboards were made out of ornate cast iron and gave him the opportunity to restrain his brother to the

sturdy structure, rather then to the leg of the bed. Watching the younger man sleep, he questioned his decision but finally justified it by telling himself it was for his brother's protection. If he couldn't keep Rebekah from getting to Sam, at least he could keep Sam from running out and kill himself.

He sat down at the table and turned the lab top on, hoping to find something on the net that would help. After an hour of getting nowhere, he finally gave up. Frustrated he almost swiped the note book of the table but at the last moment restricted himself to closing it with a little more force then necessary. He ran his hand over his face and looked over to the bed. To his surprise Sam's eyes were open and looking at him with fury in them. His face was crunched up and his lips quivered.

"You son of a bitch, you let me go right now. I have to go and if you don't uncuff me, I'm going to kill you. Do you understand? I'm going to kill you, I promise!"

The older man had difficulty digesting the pure hatred in Sam's voice, yet after taking a deep breath, he was able to maintain control.

"Sorry Sammy, can't let you go. You are not yourself and until you are I have to protect you from yourself. No way in the world will I let you hurt yourself."

This brought out a flood of curses from the younger man, several of which were new even to Dean. After listening for several minutes, hoping for his brother to quiet down, he finally couldn't take it anymore. He left the room, pulling the door shut behind him. Standing with his back against it, he closed his eyes, trying to prevent the tears threatening him again from escaping. Only after his brother's voice had seized, did he go back in.

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The next day found the older Winchester even more desperate then before. Sam had been going from being angry to pleading with him to being angry again.. More then once Dean had repeated his action from the day before and left the room. But he had never gone further then outside the door, too afraid, Sam's resourcefulness would let him find a way to escape.

He had eaten the cold food from the night Rebekah came back, trying to feed his younger brother the salad, just to have whatever he finally got in his mouth, spit at him. The same had happened with any fluids he had attempted to get down the other boy.

Out of food and anything liquid but water, he knew, eventually he would have to get supplies. He also would have to find a way to sustain Sam or he was going to die. The hospital was not an option. How was he going to explain the cuffs. 'Sorry, you have to keep him cuffed to the bed, he is being controlled by a dead woman.' They would declare him insane and commit him for the rest of his life. Leaving the room for any amount of time was out of the question also. And he still didn't find any clues on how to get rid of Rebekah. At this time the only thing the older Winchester was sure of, was that both of them wouldn't last more than a few more days, with Sam being the first to go, because he wasn't drinking anything at all.

"Damn!"

Dean cursed his decision to stop at this godforsaken place instead in some small town with a pizza delivery place. Now his only chance was to get Sam in the Impala and get to a bigger place and there was no way in hell his younger brother was going to go with him willingly as long as he was still conscious and able to resist.

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The afternoon kept dragging on as Sam once again went from anger to pleading and finally to making snarky remarks. In the beginning the older brother was able to ignore them, but as they went on, it became harder and harder for him. He finally decided to turn back to the computer and try his luck on a some more research, hoping it would help to tune the other man's words out.

"Bet you would like to go running to daddy now, hide behind his back, don't you? Daddy, who always told us how important it is for us to stick together, where is he now? He is breaking his own rules, has been for a long time. He is never there when you need him most!"

The grimace on the younger man's face should have been enough for Dean to remember, that this was not Sam talking, but after getting as much as no sleep, not enough food and putting up with this kind of talk for several hours, he wasn't thinking clearly and now jumped up from the chair, pushing it over in the process. It took him two steps to get over to the bed and pulling his brother up by the front of the shirt, he pulled his fist back and was ready to hit, when he felt a hand grab his arm and stop him from doing something he would have regretted almost immediately.

"Don't Dean, this isn't Sam talking!"

Letting go of Sam's shirt and turning around to face the man still holding his arm was one smooth move for Dean. He felt like this wasn't real, like he was hallucinating, but the pressure on his arm told him the person in front of him wasn't an apparition.

"Dad!"

"Yeah, son, it's me." The older man pulled him into an embrace, which Dean leaned into without hesitation. For just a moment he didn't doubt that God existed, after all, how else would their dad have found them right when they needed him most.

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John Winchester could instantly tell, that something was seriously wrong. The door being unlocked was only his first clue, but hearing the taunting words coming from Sam's mouth and seeing his eldest trying to hit his kid brother told him it was worse then he thought. Moving towards Dean, he held his arm back.

"Don't Dean, this isn't Sam talking!"

As his older boy turned, he could see first disbelief, then relief in his face.

"Dad!"

The one word was almost sobbed and the Winchester patriarch couldn't help but pull his son into his arms. And the way his boy leaned into him was all he needed to know that he had done the right thing by abandoning his current hunt and tracking down the two people most important in his life.

"How touching, daddy holding his favorite little soldier! A real 'Kodak' moment." The sarcastic voice of the youngest Winchester interrupted the moment of comfort John had granted his eldest, "No hunt to go on? Must be pretty quiet, if you would bother to come and see your sons. Oh, sorry, I should have said 'your son, forgot for a moment, I don't exist anymore, after all, you told me to never come back again."

Dean could see rage darken the eyes of his father, but only for a split second, then he older hunter regained his control.

"Let's go outside for a moment, we need to talk." He took the younger man by the shoulder and guided him out of the room, while both tried to ignored the nasty remarks following them.

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John Winchester watched his oldest son quietly, while he recounted the events leading up to Sam's current condition. He was very aware of his failures as a father, but he loved those boys with his whole heart. There was nothing he wouldn't do for them. He had long ago regretted telling Sam to never come back when he left for college, never actually meaning it anyway. And after their last meeting, he'd thought Sam had forgiven him for it. He knew his youngest wasn't himself right now, still, doubts started to creep up in him. Yet listening to Dean, he realized, there was no reason for him to believe Sam hated him. For some reason, Rebekah Chambers had been able to gain total control over his son. Now it was his job to find out how and take care of her.

"Dean, first of all, why don't you go, get something to eat!"

Dean wanted to protest, but John didn't let him get get a word out, "No, please, listen to me, I do have a plan, but for that, you need to be fit and that means, you need to eat."

Smiling, he handed his son a fifty dollar bill, knowing that cash was probably of short supply for his sons. Reluctantly the younger man took the money and walked off. He was still not sure, he wanted to leave his brother for even a second, yet he knew, his dad wouldn't let anything happen to Sam, so he took the opportunity and walked over to the diner. Actually, if he thought about it for a moment, one of their big juicy burgers sounded irresistible right now.

It didn't take the older Winchester brother long to finish the burger, fries and a huge piece of apple pie. He grabbed the soup he had ordered for takeout and made his way back to the motel. Now that he no longer felt hungry, his body started to demand the other thing it had been lacking for so long – sleep. His gait was slower then usual and the short walk seemed to take forever. When he finally entered the room, he felt like he'd been running a marathon. It took all he had to set the soup on the table before he collapsed onto the bed.

Not ready to give in to his exhaustion, he looked over to see his dad sitting on the other bed, stroking a sleeping Sam's cheek.

"How is he?" he managed to ask, unable to stifle a yawn

"Passed out a little while ago, after he wore himself out ranting at me." John gave his oldest a sad look, "I did manage to get a glass of water in him after he fell asleep."

"I brought some soup, today's special, cream of chicken. I thought, maybe we could get some in Sammy."

Dean's eyes were starting to droop but still he refused to give in to the draw. At least not until he was sure his brother would get some nourishment.

"Why don't you get some sleep, son. I think I can handle your brother for a while longer." Seeing the doubting expression on his eldest face, he added, "I promise, I will wake you, if I need your help."

"Fine, wake me if I'm not up in an hour. It's going to be time to check his dressings." Dean insisted, his voice trailing off and his eyes closing while he was speaking.

John smiled, this was so like Dean, always worried about Sam, putting his brother before himself. He understood, it was his doing, after all, he always told him to watch out for Sammy.

TBC

_Love to hear your opinions again. Please review, thanks._


	8. Chapter 8

_Thanks for your reviews and all the well wishes. I'm doing great, considering everything. I'm sore but the pain is a lot better than it was for the last four month. You guys are awesome. Hugs, Vonnie_

**Standard Disclaimer applies!**

John Winchester smiled as he watched his eldest stir and slowly wake up. It reminded him of a better time. A time that seemed to be so far removed, the memories of it might even belong to another man. And actually, they did, because the John Winchester that loved to be there and watch his toddler wake up in the morning, no longer existed. He died the night Mary went up in flames. Only once in a while, on very rare and special occasions the memory of this man came through, appearing like the spirit of dead man, just to be chased away again by the rock salt of reality.

The father in him remembered little Dean sitting up and rubbing his eyes with his fist before becoming aware of his daddy sitting beside his bed. He would sit up on his knees and throw his short arms around him squeezing as tight as he could, in a bear hug fashion. John would always call out for mercy afraid for his life because of his son's 'superman' strength. When Dean would let go, he would pick the little guy up and air plane him to the kitchen right into his waiting mother's arms. This routine continued until the day after Baby Sammy came home, then it slightly changed.

After hugging him that morning, Dean refused the usual plane ride, instead wiggled through his grip and ran into the nursery, where he stopped at the crib and watched his brand new brother sleep. The tiny baby opened his eyes, looked at the older boy and then stretched his chubby little arm through the spindles of the crib like he was reaching for him. The instant Dean grabbed on to the small fist magic happened. People say infants this small don't smile, that it was just gas, but John Winchester knew better. The smile that lit up the small face and eyes of his youngest son was unmistakably just that – a smile. And it was repeated every time he saw his brother and only for him. Not until he was a month old did he start smiling for his parents.

Now it seemed like this had been an omen, a foreboding of the older brother's future role in the little ones life. A role that continued through today and would until one or the other, or maybe both seized to exist.

John secretly wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. He was grateful for this little miracle in both of his sons lives. He knew, he could have never filled the role of the father they both needed. Dean had always been the better dad to Sammy and at the same time Sam had filled the void for Dean.

Dean sitting up and rubbing his hand over his eyes, brought the Winchester patriarch back into the presence. He watched as his son turned and looked over to the other bed, before he stood up and reached down to stroke his sleeping siblings dark locks. His hurt was clearly visible in the deep green eyes as he turned to his father.

"How long did you let me sleep?"

John didn't miss the accusation in his voice, but chose to ignore it, "Five hours."

"Why in the world would you let me sleep this long? I need to be awake for Sam." now Dean was really angry.

"That's exactly why I let you sleep this long. You need to be awake and fit for your brother. And to drive, we need to take off as soon as we can."

Having the wind taken out of his anger before he could blow up, Dean reluctantly agreed that he needed the sleep to be able to function.

"So, what's the plan?" he asked.

"We have to go back to the mansion, find out more about Rebekah."

"And how do you want to handle this? We can't leave Sam by himself."

"I told you earlier, I have a plan. Well, I worked on it while you were sleeping. I got connections and got myself a job as a construction worker at the Chambers mansion. That will get me in during the daytime, while the other people are present. I don't think Rebekah will try anything then. You will stay with Sam and at night we both will be with him." John explained.

"Do you think it is wise to move Sam back this close to the mansion?" the older son trusted his dad's judgment, but his first priority was his brother.

The experienced hunter looked at him with a serious expression on his face, "Dean, she has gotten to Sammy, no matter how far away he was. If we take him back, at least both of us can watch him and work together to save him. I'm not sure what's going on, but I know we're not just dealing with a regular spirit. Something is off here, and I promise you, we will find out what and bring Sammy back."

"You want to leave right now or wait until tomorrow?" Now that the older Winchester son had finally embraced his father's plan, he was anxious to leave.

"Right now, I don't want to waist any more time. If we leave now, I can start work at the mansion tomorrow. I got your things packed already and loaded in the Impala."

"What about Sam? He won't come willingly." Dean's eyes moved over to his brother, who hadn't moved once during their conversation.

If it was possible, John's expression turned even more serious, "He is going to be out for at least another six or seven hours, I injected him with a longer acting sedative." He looked almost apologetic at his eldest, "I really didn't want to do it, but I felt we needed to keep him quiet so we can move him without him being a danger to himself again."

"I know dad." Dean put his hand on the older man's arm, "I would have done the same thing."

He could see his father relax slightly as he received the absolution he had just given him.

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Morning was dawning as the two black vehicles pulled up in front of the small motel at the outskirts of town. Both of the older Winchester men had deemed it safer to stay here rather then at the nicer downtown hotel, where the boys had stayed initially. This place was small and was divided into about ten single cabin like buildings. There was a central, slightly larger building, which contained the office and as marked on the wall beside the entrance door, a laundry and a 'breakfast' room, where the continental breakfast was available between 6 and 10 AM. It was obvious the place had seen better days, but at least it looked like it was in decent repair and fairly inexpensive. And free breakfast was always a plus, Dean couldn't help thinking as he felt his stomach growl at him.

Waiting impatiently for his father to come back with a key, he looked into the back seat, where Sam was still peacefully sleeping. For a while he had almost been able to forget about his baby brother, but just almost. Sam was too close to his heart to every really be off his mind. He couldn't count the times, when the younger man had told him, he felt like he was nothing but a burden to him. He had never hesitated in telling him how wrong he was.

For a moment he thought about it, yes, maybe Sam was a burden at times, but he wasn't the kind of burden that was thrown on you and you would break under. No, he was the kind, that you loved to carry, because it made you grow and get stronger, The kind that actually lifted you up and at the same time kept you grounded.

He was called out of his thoughts by the knocking on the driver's side window. His father dangled a key in front of his nose. "Cabin one, at the very end." His voice sounded muffled through the closed window.

Following John's directions, Dean pulled the Impala up in front of their assigned cabin. Waiting until the older man had done the same with his truck, he opened the backdoor and started to pull his brother out. His father was ready and helped him bring Sam up to a standing position. Together they dragged the sleeping young man into the cabin, putting him down on the bed by the bathroom.

While John unloaded the bags, Dean made sure his brother was as comfortable as possible before he looked for a way to restrain him again. There was no cast iron headboard here, this one was made out of solid wood and the mattress was laying on a platform. He finally decided to wait, maybe they could figure something out later. For right Sam was still out for the count anyway.

For a moment he looked around in the room. For once he found himself pleased with his dad's choice of accommodations. Although old and faded, the light brown carpet was clean, so was the furniture. Not even a grain of dust was visible. The dark brown curtains were actually new looking and so were the matching colored comforters on the two double beds. There was a sand colored couch in the corner, that obviously could be converted to a sleeper, if the extra set of sheets, blanket and pillow lying on it were any indication. The pictures on the light walls showed friendly scenes of playing children and animals, giving the room an almost cheery appearance.

Stepping into the bathroom, he found it equally clean and no obnoxious colors in there either. Everything was kept in earth tones, just like the rest of the cabin. It was clear, the owner of this establishment took pride in it, no matter how difficult it was to keep the place going, they did the best they could with it.

Watching John Winchester enter the room, he walked towards him and took one of the duffels out of his hand. Usually choosing the bed closest to the door, he left it for his father this time, putting his bag on the couch instead.

"Thanks, Dad,

"I go get us some breakfast, I looked in, they got sweet rolls, muffins, coffee, juice and milk. I'll be back in a jiffy." John was gone before Dean could respond.

He looked over to his still sleeping brother and suddenly felt very tired. The five hours the afternoon before just hadn't been enough to keep him going. Maybe a cup of coffee would help bring his energy level up.

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It took John only ten minutes to make it back with breakfast. He carried a large paper bag in his mouth, while balancing two cups of coffee in his hand, using the other to open the door and lock it again.

Dean jumped up from the couch he had settled on and took the cups from his father, setting them on the desk beside the couch. John let himself fall onto the bed and handed his oldest son the bag, watching with amusement as Dean's head almost disappeared inside it. After a moment he pulled out several cinnamon rolls and blueberry muffins, all of which were still slightly warm.

"Wow, they smell awesome."

"The owner says, his wife bakes them fresh every morning, he says with as little travelers as they get, it's cheaper to do it this way then to buy them."

"Awesome!" Dean couldn't belief the taste as he bit into the first roll, it seemed like ages, since he had a freshly baked roll like this.

The oldest Winchester smiled, while helping himself to one the muffins, "I brought enough to get you through the day, even if your brother should decide to eat anything. There is also some juice and chocolate milk in there. Maybe we can get some of it into Sammy. Let me show you how."

He sat down on the bed and cradled his youngest in his arms.

"Open the container of chocolate milk and hand it to me." he requested, receiving it with his outstretched hand.

He carefully put it to Sam's lips and tipped it just enough that a small amount could flow into the sleeping boy's mouth. Setting it down beside him, he started to massage his hand down his youngest son's throat until he elicited a swallowing response. He repeated the procedure until the carton was empty.

"It's not much, but at least he gets something, if he refuses to eat on his own.

Dean had watched with astonishment how gentle his father had handled his brother. The older man never seized to amaze him. Noticing look in his oldest eyes, the older man put Sam down and threw the empty box in the trash.

Checking his watch, he stated, "I have to leave soon, why don't we try to wake Sam and get him to the bathroom while he is still too out from the sedative to put up much of a struggle. You can take his left side and help me pull him up."

While his father brought Sam up to a sitting position, Dean complied with the request and together they dragged the youngest member of their family into the bathroom. Halfway there, Sam opened his eyes and started to move his legs in a funny imitation of walking. As they neared their destination, his attempts became slightly more focused, but he was still clearly too out of it to realize what was going on.

Dean was certain his kid brother would be horrified, would he ever know his father and brother had helped him use the bathroom like this. So when he was sure Sam would be able to mostly stand on his own, he quietly motioned for the older man to leave, sparing his sibling at least some of the embarrassment.

Seeing the questioning look in his dad's eyes, he added., "I can handle him from here!"

John smiled but left without protesting, but for a moment two words ran through his mind 'Daddy Dean'.

It took his sons five minutes before the door opened and Dean shoved a still loopy Sam back into the room. With his father's assist he took his jeans off and dressed him in a pair of sleep pants before helping him lie back down on the bed. During all this, Sam offered neither help nor resistance.

"What are we going to do about restraining him?" He questioned the older hunter.

John contemplated for just a second, before answering, "Let's use two pair of cuffs to restrain his ankles and his wrists, that way he can't go anywhere. I really don't want to use this sedative on him again unless I have no other choice, he is really out of it, more than I expected."

It took the two men only a minute to cuff Sam. Making sure his brother was covered and warm, Dean went over to the couch and transformed it into a bed for himself

John smiled at him, grateful, he wouldn't have to order him to sleep, "I'm going to leave now, I have the feeling your brother is going to be out for a few more hours, so hopefully you can get some sleep too. I'll bring food, when I get back tonight and hopefully some information."

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It was almost 6 PM by the time Dean say his father the next time. John brought Chinese takeout and a supply of sodas and water in a cooler he had purchased on his way back to the motel. It had been a long day and he was glad to be back with his boys, hoping their day had been uneventful.

Setting the food and cooler down, he dropped beside his oldest boy, who was sitting on the couch, pretending to watch tv, while actually observing his brother. Sam was lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, his hazel eyes void of any expression.

"How long has he been like this?" John asked, unsure what disturbed him more, the nasty demeanor his youngest son had exhibited yesterday or his vacant silence of today.

"Pretty much ever since he woke up." Dean told him, "I fell asleep after you left and didn't wake up til about noon. He was still asleep at that time. I tried to get him to drink some juice but he woke up after about half of it. I expected him to fight and rave at me again. Instead, he just clamped his mouth shut and turned away."

In a desperate attempt to hide the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him, Dean turned away from his father and took several deep breaths. He halfway expected to receive a scolding for his behavior, so he was surprised when he felt a gently hand on his shoulder.

"Dean, I know this is difficult for you. Belief me, I feel the same way. The bad thing is, this is nothing I've ever dealt with before, but together we will get Sam out of this." He locked eyes with him and there was nothing but sincerity in his brown eyes.

Taking the food out of the bag, he continued, "Why don't we eat, while I tell you about my day."

Dean just nodded, although comforted by his father's words, he was still not certain of his ability to speak. Taking one of the containers, he started to eat, while at the same time anxiously listening to what the older hunter had to say.

"I found plenty of opportunities to check out the mansion. There are a lot of old books around, some of them handwritten journals of the family, dating back as far as 1542. Sounds like they came over from Ireland, although there are some parts of the family that go back to Scotland and England. I borrowed two of the journals that seemed especially interesting because one was written by Rebekah's mother, Doireann O'Caomhain Chambers, the other by a Sarah Jane Sullivan Chambers, it sounds like she was married to Jason, Rebekah's nephew. I haven had time to read a lot, but I think it might give us some clues."

While he was speaking, he had pulled two leather bound books out of his coat pocket. Now he offered one to Dean, who accepted it without hesitation, anxious to begin studying it, while he himself took on the other.

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For several hours it was unusually quiet in the room, both older men were immersed in their reading material, while Sam continued to stare up at the ceiling, not having moved once. From time to time one of the men would get up and check on him, usually kneeling down beside him and stroke his hair, while quietly talking. Either of them hoped to elicit some kind of response, but both failed miserably in their attempts.

Right now it was Dean's turn again to tend to his brother again. He had decided to make an attempt at giving his kid brother some water. Sliding his arm underneath the younger man's head, he lifted it slightly and brought the bottle up to his lips. For a moment it seemed as if he might succeed, as Sam willingly took a large drink from it, then his head shot up and he spit the liquid back out into Dean's face. Hatred burning in his eyes like a flame, he started to tear on his restraints, succeeding in tearing the skin on his wrists within seconds.

"I'll kill you if you don't let me go, you hear me, let me go right now!" he demanded, "I cut you up in little pieces, I will tear your eyes out with my hands and make you eat them, if you don't uncuff me."

The older brother was to shocked by the sudden change in behavior to react, he just sat there, listening to the continuing list of bodily harm his kid brother threatened to inflict on him. Cutting his heart out, covering him with honey and let ants loose on him, tearing every single hair off his body, cutting his heart out of his body, while he was awake. All these were things, that sounded laughable coming out of the mouth of a Sam Winchester, a man that wouldn't harm anyone unless they were a spirit or some other supernatural entity, and even them he would give the benefit of a doubt if the opportunity arose. The sad thing was, that this wasn't the brother Dean knew and so he had to belief, that given the opportunity, Sam would go through with his threats, no matter how funny they sounded.

Unable to find the strength to leave, Dean turned to his father, hoping to find help there, but the older man was still sitting in the same spot, listening with the same disbelief to his youngest rant at his brother. Realizing his son's need for support, he got himself to move to his side and sat down, laying his arm around Dean's shoulder.

Like out the blue the stream of threats seized and was followed by several unspeakable obscenities, just to turn into pleading several minutes later. It was the pleading that almost made Dean's heart break, and even John had a difficult time listening to the cries of desperation coming from Sam's mouth.

Even with his hands and legs cuffed, Sam managed to get up on his knees. As tears streamed down his face, he stretched his hands out for his older sibling, "Please Dean, you have to let me go, please, I need to go to her. I love her. Have you ever loved someone? Don't you see, we can't be separated, we have can't live without each other. If you ever loved me, please let me go!"

His appeals became even more desperate as he spent every bit of energy he had left, trying to convince Dean to let him be with Rebekah. After a while his voice disolved into weeping and as his strength started to wean, he started to fall over onto his side, his body still convulsing with sobs until it stilled in sleep.

It took both men several minutes to be able to move. A time in which John's arm still lying on Dean's shoulder seemed to be the connection through which they gave each other the power to go on. Both of them felt a painful emptiness in them. His sons were Johns whole life and knew, loosing one would mean loosing the other also. And Dean needed Sam to give him a purpose.

It was the older man, who finally came back to life first and gently moved his youngest son into a more comfortable position, covering him with the blanket at again.

"We have to go on reading the journals, it might be the only way to help Sammy."

As he reached out and helped the younger hunter up, Dean could see a tear glisten in his eye. Unable to respond for fear he would loose it, he just nodded and let his father guide him back to the couch. Sitting down, he picked up the journal and continued his search.

TBC

_Sorry to leave you hanging here, I will try to update soon. Please let me know what you think._


	9. Chapter 9

_Thanks for all your kindness and well wishes. I'm doing a lot better. _

**Standard Disclaimer applies!**

It took the two older Winchester men half the night and several coffee runs, which Dean gladly volunteered for, before John finally found something that caught his attention. He reread the passage before he looked up to reveal his discovery to his oldest. For a moment he observed the younger man , watching him study the handwritten journal in front of him intently. His back was slightly bend forward, his elbows perched on his knees, one hand holding the book in front of him, while the other held his head up, making it look like it weighed a ton.

John grinned, he was well aware, that reading anything else than adult magazines or maybe the occasional comic book was not necessarily Dean's favorite thing. That he had been sitting here most of the night showed just how much he cared about his brother.

"Dean, listen to this, it sounds promising." He tore his son out of his concentration.

Immediately, the other hunter put down his book and sat up straight, anxious to hear what his father had discovered.

"Doireann Chambers must have written this before she died." The older Winchester explained, before he started to read "It seems, I will take the legacy of my family to my grave. It has always been the oldest daughter, who carried the responsibility for the ancient art and passed it on to her oldest female child. I passed it on to mine, yet she has chosen to leave and never gave me an opportunity to teach her how to make sure her firstborn would be a girl. I can only hope, she will find this journal with the spell, when the circumstances arise for her to come back. I do understand the pain that made her choose to go, yet I wish she would have confided in me before she selected this option. Now I have no choice but to reveal the secret to the heir of the household. This will be the first time in history of this family, a man will know, yet the death of Rachel, my second daughter, leaves me with no other alternative. In order for the ancient art to be passed on, Rebekah will have to know the spell for it. Only my son can make sure it will be known to her." John stopped reading and looked at Dean, "The next page is missing, it was probably the spell."

"Wow, this sounds kinda confusing." The younger man was still trying to process the information in his head, "I wonder, if she is talking about witch craft, when she mentioned the 'ancient art'?"

"I wouldn't doubt it, think about it, it would make a lot of sense. Also, did you notice, she writes Rachel died but never says the same about Rebekah. She talks about her leaving and about her coming back, when the circumstances are right."

"That is the part that confuses me." Dean admitted, "It sounds like she never died. But were was she until now, if she wasn't dead? And why did she come back now?"

John shrugged his shoulders, "Son, I wish I had an answer for you. I know it's frustrating, but at least we have something."

For a moment the younger man was silent, taking a large drink from his now cold coffee and wiping his hand over his face. He was starting to feel like there would never be an answer or it would come too late for Sam, yet his family genes came to his rescue once again. Winchester men didn't give up, they always found a way. Gazing over to where his kid brother was sleeping, he knew what had to be done.

"You're right dad, giving up is not an option. Sammy doesn't deserve this." He got up and picked up his key's, "I'm going to get more coffee before I continue with Sarah Jane's journal. Why don't you lie down for a while, you got about three hours before you have to leave for work again." He encouraged his father before leaving.

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Dean got up from his place on the couch and walked over to check on his brother. After returning with an extra large coffee over two hours ago, he had immediately gone back to work on the journal. Now he needed to stretch to get the kinks out of his back and to keep from falling asleep. But maybe even more urgent was his need to make sure Sam was doing alright.

The youngest Winchester was still sleeping, there was no movement other then the up and down of his chest. It was difficult for Dean to remember, that the innocent looking young man in the bed was the same Sam that had thrown some of the most awful words at him only a few hours ago. This here was exactly why they needed to keep searching and find a way out, because even with growing up hunting and having lived through so many tragedies, his baby brother had always been able to carry his childlike innocence with him.

The older brother gently pushed his hand through the dark mop. He couldn't help himself, even at the risk to wake his sibling up and be the recipient of more ranting, he craved the contact for his own sake. And for a moment he felt Sam's head lean into his hand and a mumbled, "Dean" come from his lips, before the young man relaxed again. It was not much, yet it was enough to encourage him and strengthen his resolve.

"We get you out of this, Sammy, I promise!" he whispered, before he went to the couch and continued with his research.

It was almost like a small miracle, like the brief contact with his brother had lead him to it, because on the next page the older Winchester brother turned to, he found the first real interesting passage in the book. Anxiously he started to read, hoping this would solve the mystery they were facing. To his disappointment, it became very fast clear to him, that it wasn't a solution but yet another piece in the puzzle. Having resisted his initial urge to throw the journal into the next corner, Dean sat back and took a deep breath. He couldn't afford loosing his cool now, not when they were finally getting closer, even if it was only at a creeping speed.

Carefully he went over the passage twice again, making sure he didn't miss anything, then he checked his watch.

"Dad." Getting no reaction, he stood up and moved closer to the sleeping man, gently but determined shaking his shoulder, "Dad, it's time to wake up!" Seeing the hunter move and finally open his eyes, he said, "I found something. Why don't you jump in the shower, I'll get breakfast and tell you about it while we're eating."

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Fifteen minutes later the two men were sharing the same breakfast they had the day prior, enjoying it the same way they had then. Only this time Dean put the roll down after the first bite, anxious to share his discovery with his father.

"It sounds like Jason, being the only child, inherited the family secret. He had only one son and he was only five when Jason died. So he confided in his wife. And she obviously didn't believe him and never told her son about it." He stopped, waiting for a reaction from the older man.

"Well, I understand that, her husband had no powers to proof it was true. Things like this are not easy to belief. Now, let's hear what does she say?" He urged his son to go on.

"Listen to this – I still can't belief Jason is gone. My precious husband, how could you leave us alone? And yet, I'm happy he doesn't have to suffer anymore.: The young man almost stopped there, feeling odd to give voice to the words of a loving and grieving woman, It took all his restraint to go on reading, "His youthful strength was lost and his mind clouded. He tried to convince me, that his family has practiced witchcraft for centuries. It was the oldest daughter in the family, the only one that inherited the emerald eyes of her mother. It wouldn't even be so unbelievable, if it wasn't for the fact of him insisting it ended with his aunt Rebekah. I know she died before Jason was born, yet my dear husband tried to tell me, she didn't die. That she used a spell and is now caught in a different realm, from which she will come back, when the conditions are right."

Dean interrupted himself to take a sip from his coffee and John took the opportunity to speak up, "So she isn't dead. That's why she can do things spirits can't do."

"Yeah, I thought too, that this changes a lot!" Dean agreed, "She continues – He told me there is a spell that she will need to know, to control the gender of her firstborn. He gave me the paper and I will glue it in this journal right after this entry. Not because I belief him, but because it is fascinating to read this totally made up gibberish, yes, it is almost romantic to pretend it was indeed some kind of spell. I asked my poor delusional husband, how his aunt was going to come back. This is what really makes it romantic, almost worth of a novel, he said, she has to find a man pure at heart and enchant him with a spell. He will be the one. Once under her power nothing could take him away from her, except the words written in her own journal."

Dean took another breathe, although he had read the passage twice before, it was only now that the meaning of the last word fully sank in. Disbelieving he stared at his father, who obviously already had grabbed the importance it had to them.

"This isn't just a clue after all, it points us into the direction of the solution, Rebekah's journal." The younger hunter gasped, almost afraid, he was dreaming.

"It sounds like it." Johns voice was carefully optimistic, "Now we just have to find it. Which I'm planning to do today."

John stuffed the last of his roll in his mouth and flushed it down with the coffee. He suddenly was very anxious to get back to the mansion. Hope was dawning on the horizon like the first beam of light after a a starless night. He would find this journal, no matter how much time he had to spend at the construction site, the lives of his sons depended on it.

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A few hours after John had left for 'work', Dean decided it was time to wake his brother and take a trip to the bathroom with him. He gently shook the younger man and waited for a reaction. Almost instantly he was rewarded with some movement, yet it took a few moments before slightly glazed eyes looked at him. There was no anger or fight in his eyes this time, only emptiness, so the older brother deemed it save to uncuff his ankles, so he could walk without stumbling.

When he helped Sam up, he noticed how unsteady his brother was, to the point that he leaned into Dean. It suddenly dawned on the older man how much weight his kid brother lost and that he also had to be very much dehydrated. Walking into the bathroom proofed almost too much and Dean had to let him sit down on the edge of the tub before he would draw both of them down.

Giving his brother time to rest, he wet a wash cloth with tepid water and wrung it out, before wiping it over the younger mans face and neck. Sam just let his arms and head hang, hiding his eyes behind his long bangs.

"Ok, Sammy, up we go!" Without realizing it, Dean was addressing his brother the same way, he had when he was just a child.

After assisting him to use the bathroom, which Sam once again let happen without offering any resistance, the older brother took him back and laid him on the bed again. Almost instantly the hazel eyes closed and Sam's breathing evened out in sleep, leaving behind a very concerned Dean. There was nothing he could do right now, but he knew, he had to call his father and get him to organize supplies to start some intravenous fluids on his brother. Judging by the small amount of urine his little brother had been able to produce, he was getting close to having his kidneys fail and this was something they needed to avoid at any price.

Picking up his cell from the table, he punched in the speed dial for the oldest Winchester and waited until there was an answer on the other side of the line. In short words he explained the situation, getting a, "I was afraid this would happen!" as response, before John promised to pick up the needed supplies on his way home.

"Did you find anything yet?" Dean couldn't help but ask.

"Not yet, I'm working on it." the older hunter responded, before he disconnected the call.

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Although John Winchester was usually levelheaded and not easy to rail, except of maybe by his youngest son, he was starting to loose his cool. Ever since he hung up the phone three hours ago, he had been methodically sifting through the library in the mansion. Now he was holding the last book in his hands and realized, none of them contained what he had searched for.

Looking at the mess he had left on the floor, dropping every book carelessly after finding it useless, he couldn't help being thankful for two things. First, that the library was already completed and far off from the rest of the construction area, and second, that his younger son wasn't with him. He actually had a smile on his face, when he remembered the care, with which little Sammy handled the few books, he called his own, like they were pure gold. Not even Dean ever understood, what his little brother saw in reading anything else than for research, yet he always respected it.

John's smile changed into a frown and tears started to sting his eyes. Not until recently had he come to appreciate the intelligent young man, that was his son, coming to the conclusion, that his 'nerdiness' was actually a strength rather than a weakness. Now he realized it might be to late to ever tell Sam, he had changed his opinion of him.

Shaking off his dreary thoughts, he went on to check the back of the the shelves for any hidden compartments. Very soon it became clear to him, that there was nothing to find and he moved on to check underneath the area rugs and around the walls. Coming up empty, too, he decided it was time to move on to the next room, which was furnished as a small office. Yet it took him only one look to see, that the furniture, although matching the style of the mansion, were definitely contemporary, so were the rest of the decorations. It was obvious, that the room had been redone to give the management of the future museum a work area.

He spent the rest of the day checking out the other rooms, not wanting to miss anything, even though he was fairly sure, there was nothing to find. During the lunch hour he made an appearance in the break area, so as not raise any suspicion. He was glad, he hunter, who had gotten him the job, had made him a 'gardener'. He was also the other man working in the yard, which made it much easier for him to disappear during work hours.

When 4 PM rolled around, the experience hunter felt discouraged and almost hopeless. He had no idea where else to look and almost dreaded having to look his oldest son in the eyes, telling him, he had nothing to show. Still, knowing he would only put off the inevitable, he left the Chambers Mansion and drove back to the motel; making a detour on the way, to pick up the things needed to rehydrate Sam.

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Dean couldn't count the times he had tried to get his brother to drink. He had tempted him with anything from coffee and orange juice to soda and water, yet Sam had only pinched his lips together, making it impossible for any liquid to get past them. His only hope was for the younger man to fall asleep and getting the much needed fluid into him at that time. Though, as if reading his mind, Sam refused to let sleep claim him.

By now the older Winchester had given up trying and all his hope was lying in the return of his father. Sam wouldn't be able to fight getting what he needed intravenously. Contrary to the anxiety and restlessness of his mind, Dean's body was starting to demand what was due to it and sitting on the couch, watching his brother, he started to nod off.

It was a sob from Sam, that instantly startled the older brother back to wakefulness. Confused he checked his watch, realizing it was after 4 PM. Only when he heard another weeping sound from his brother, did he become aware, that this was what woke him in the first place. Moving over to the bed, he saw the pleading in the hazel eyes, that were no longer able to produce the liquid needed for tears. This wasn't the only thing he noticed, though. He couldn't miss the slight flush of his brother's cheeks and the warmth radiating from his skin.

Thinking for a second, he moved Sam into a sitting position, taking off the cuff's from his wrists. He had never reapplied the ones to his ankles, when he put him back to bed in the morning.

"Ok, let's go, Sammy. Time to get you cleaned up."

Hauling the lanky body of his brother to a standing position proved more difficult then he thought. The younger man was mostly dead weight. Finally he managed and mostly carried him to the bathroom. Sitting him down on the edge of the tub, he let some tepid water run in.

Slowly he started to pull Sam's sweats down, finding no resistance until he attempted to take his t-shirt off, at which time the younger man weakly resisted, again only using his eyes to plead with his brother.

"It's alright Sammy, I won't take the shirt away, I promise." He tried to calm his sibling, trying to keep his voice steady, while at the same time his heart was bleeding.

For just a moment there was a exchange of glances between them, that felt almost real, before the younger sibling sank back into his lethargy. Without any more fighting, Dean was able to slide him into the tub, before he took a wash cloth and repeatedly wet it, letting the cool water run over his brother's face and neck.

Sam's eyes were mostly closed and his body almost flaccid, as he allowed his older brother to cool him down. After a few minutes, Dean turned the faucet back on to add cold water, hoping this would bring his sibling out of his stupor. It really scared him and he found himself praying to a god, he usually didn't even believed existed, to let his father return home soon.

After a few minutes, he noticed shivers running through Sam's body and he concluded, giving his sibling hypothermia wouldn't resolve anything.

Wrapping his arms around him, he pulled him up onto the rim and enveloped him into a towel, gently rubbing his hands up and down his body to dry him, while at the same time attempting to transfer a little bit of warmth. Dragging the younger man to his feet, he wrapped the towel around his waist and pulled his shorts down and the shirt off. This time, he didn't encounter any opposition.

"Ok, let's get you back to bed, kiddo." He encouraged him, again putting his arm around him and walking him back.

After depositing Sam on the bed, he pulled a pair of shorts and a t-shirt out of his duffel and dressed the younger man in the fresh clothes. Drawing him to a sitting positon, he steadied him and pulled the shirt over his head. When he leaned forward, ready to help him to lie down again, the other man's fist suddenly shot forward and hit him straight in the face. Although the punch lacked power, it was enough to make the older man loose balance and fall backwards, hitting the back of his head hard on the floor.

Dazed, it took Dean a few moments to recover, just long enough for Sam to step over him and stumble out of the room. As soon as his vision cleared, he scrambled back on his feet. Shaking off the slight dizziness that hit him, he ran out the door to follow his brother He knew, the other man wouldn't get very far in the condition he was in.

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John Winchester was still not quite happy about having to face Dean without Rebekah's journal but at least he had been able to organize all the supplies from the local hospital. The security there, or rather the lack of it, made it really easy for him to get everything without any problems. Due to a pile up on the interstate, that had resulted in multiple injuries, every one else also was to busy to pay any attention to him.

He turned into the parking lot of the motel, when he saw Dean run out of the room, holding the back of his head. His face was clinched and there was panic written in his eyes. Not bothering to pull into a parking space, John stopped and jumped out of the truck, realizing at the same moment, that his eldest had spotted him, because he came running towards him.

"Dad, Sam escaped."

The eldest Winchester knew there was no time to ask what happened, "How long ago?"

"Just now, he has to be around here somewhere!" Dean called out, already running in the direction opposite from where John had come.

He knew his father would have seen Sam, if he would have passed him. The older man followed without any more questions, hoping they would catch up with their youngest soon.

Rounding the side of the building they saw Sam a way ahead of them, more stumbling then running. Now he tripped and fell, but was up just a moment later, like drawn up by an invisible force.

"Sam, please stop!" Dean screamed, knowing chances his brother would comply were close to nonexistent, but needing to try anyway.

He looked ahead into the direction Sam was running and suddenly ceased his own steps. His father, who was slightly behind him, managed to avoid colliding with him only at the last moment. Unsure as to what had made his eldest son halt, he looked at him.

"Rebekah." Dean's word's came out in a gasp, as he pointed toward the middle of the busy highway.

It was then that John Winchester saw the slender red haired woman for the first time. She was standing in the middle of the road, holding her hands out towards the youngest Winchester. Her lips moved and her emerald colored eyes almost glowed as they focused on Sam. He also noticed that Sam had stopped at the side of the road and looked like he was in a trance.

Hopeful, to be able to get to his youngest in time, he took off running again, knowing by feeling the breath in the back of his neck, that Dean was right behind him. Just beyond their reaches, Sam suddenly came back to live and stepped out into the heavy traffic..

TBC

_Oh, no, I've done it again, I left you with a cliffie. Sorry, but I couldn't help myself. Please let me know what you think. Reviews are always appreciated and fill me with ideas, so I can continue to write. Hugs, Vonnie_


	10. Chapter 10

_Thank you for all your kindness! My back is doing well and I'm taking it easy but working again for over a week now. I hope this chapter isn't out of character, especially the end. Sometimes things get away from me. Hope you enjoy._

**Standard Disclaimer applies!**

He felt weak, but not as weak as he made the other man believe. Actually, the cool bath had given him back some his ability to think. Now, that he had let himself be dragged back to the bed and the stranger had dressed him again, He knew he had to grap the opportunity head on as soon as it presented itself. And he didn't have to wait very long. As soon as the older man leaned forward, he pulled his fist back and rammed it into the handsome face. Taking only a second to see him fall to the ground, he jumped up and stepped over him, making his way out of the room.

Dizzy and off balance, he tried to run as fast as he could, knowing his kidnapper was going to follow him soon. He couldn't understand why the two strangers held him against his will. What had he done to them? He didn't even know them. All he wanted was to be left alone, so he could finally be united with the woman he loved.

His head was spinning, making it difficult to think, yet he knew, he had to find Rebekah, she was waiting for him. He was her only hope. Without him, she would never be able to return and he couldn't let this happen. He had to save her, if he just wouldn't be so tired. It was so difficult to continue, while is legs felt like rubber and his vision was too blurry to see exactly where he was going. Still, giving up wasn't an option and so he and continued on.

"Sam, please stop!"

He heard the voice of his tormentor behind him, but it made him run with even more determination. He stumbled on until he heard the other voice, the one that sweetly beckoned him, the voice of the woman that meant the world to him.

My sweet beloved, come to me."

He stopped and looked ahead, his vision suddenly clearing as he stood still and finally he could see her, Rebekah, the one he belonged to and that would belong to him in only a short moment. Her hands were stretched out for him and her eyes locked onto his.

Again she called to him, "Come to me now, my love."

His eyes still focused on her, he followed her call and stepped forward to end his longing and finally be with her. His hands now also reaching out, he felt her fingers touch his and the intensity of the connection hit him with all its might. He felt like he was lifted up and whirled through the air, as the brightness and heat of the light surrounding him took his breath away and blinded him. He experienced a sensation of weightlessness, that made him wish he could always be like this. Yet as fast as it had begun, it ended and the light faded into an all concluding black, that left no room to feel anything.

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The two older Winchester men moved forward the second the youngest member of their family stepped into the road. Their movements in total sync, both almost flew toward the road in a desperate attempt to prevent a tragedy from happening.

The breaks of the newer model red Ford Mustang convertible were squealing and the car swerved as the driver tried to avoid the figure that just stepped into his path. Yet to no avail, because the next thing the father and brother witnessed, was the vehicle colliding with Sam, tossing him in the air like a rag doll and making his body do a flip before it impacted with the hood and window of the still skidding vehicle. It remained there for a moment, before the Ford came to a sudden halt and made the limp body slide of the front and onto the asphalt.

Being nailed to the ground by the shock of the event, both man stared first at the crushed figure before of them, then to the woman still standing in the middle of the road. There was a satisfied look on her face and an eerie laugh came from her throat before she disappeared into nothingness.

It was as if Rebekah's disappearance released the bonds, that held them tied to the spot. Dean was the first to be at his brother's side, jumping forward and sliding on his knees. The panic enveloping him, made it almost impossible to think. His emotions all over the place, he tried to determine, if he should even touch the body before him. Instinctively he knew, there was no way his brother could have survived this.

John, although not much better off, finally found enough strength and felt for a pulse at his youngest son's neck.

He let out a gasp of relieved surprise, "He is alive!"

Dean looked at him without understanding, his face pale and his eyes clouded with tears. The older man put his hands on his shoulders and gently shook him.

"Sam is alive!" He repeated, realizing his older son was still in shock.

This time the words broke through and Dean came slowly back to live. Having to assure himself, he moved his hand to the carotid artery on his brother's neck. The movement underneath his fingers was thready and weak but at least it was there, turning his dark despair into a ray of hope.

Taking in Sam's appearance, he noted the younger man was lying on his abdomen, his head turned to the left. Blood was pooling on the road from a head wound hidden from view. His eyes were closed and a gurgling and whistling sound was audible with every one of his labored breaths as at the same time frothy looking blood appeared on his lips.

The younger man's right arm was positioned at an odd angle beside his body. Pieces of bone were visible through a large wound on his forearm. His right leg was stretched out, while the left was bent at a slight forward angle, indicating another fracture somewhere above the knee, but at least this one wasn't compounded.

"This wasn't my fault, he ran right into my car!"

The errate voice of the driver, drew Dean away from his assessment. Looking up, he saw the man standing beside his father.

"I know it wasn't." John replied absentmindedly, more concerned with his son than the question whose fault the accident was.

"What kind of idiot runs around in his underwear anyway? He has to be strung out on drugs!"

After everything he watched his brother go through over the last few days, the words of the middle aged man made something snap in Dean. He jumped up and was at the man's throat before John could stop him. Clenching his fist, he stopped in mid throw and deflated, his face void of the anger it was marked with just moments before. Letting go of the man, he looked at his father for a brief moment, before turning to attend to his brother again.

John just pushed the man to the side, then went down on his knees to join Dean at Sam's side.

Afraid to move him, the two hunter monitored the unconscious kid, making sure his airway remained open. Both had tears in there eyes and it was only a small relief, when the sounds of sirens could be heard in the distance.

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The ambulance arrived at the local hospital just a few seconds before the Impala. For once Dean had relinquished the wheel to his father, which now gave him the freedom to jump out before the car came to a complete standstill. He ran after the gurney that wheeled his brother into the emergency room, only to be stopped by a male nurse, who vaguely reminded the young hunter of slightly smaller version of the hulk. Desperate to see his brother, he tried to push by the man, but he stood tall without moving, obviously used to family members attempting to enter the treatment area.

"Sorry, you can't get in there, but the doctor will let you know what's going on as soon as possible"

He put his hand on the others shoulder, his touch and voice amazingly gentle for a man of his size.

Feeling the need to continue to push, Dean found his attempts in vain as he was taken by the arm and lead to to seating area across the hall. He was sitting in one of the ugly green plastic chairs before he knew what was happening. Deflated he let his head hang down, too overwhelmed to do anything but sit there.

This was how John found his oldest a few minutes later. Knowing he would have to fill out papers, he walked over to the reception and requested the forms. Filling them out in a hurry, he almost threw them at the receptionist after he finished, before he joined his son and quietly put an arm around his shoulder. There was nothing he could say to make things better, but he hoped Dean would take comfort in the contact. Together they waited, caught between hope and despair.

It was only a few minutes later, when a voice drew them out of their thoughts.

"Mr. Watson?"

Both men shot up from their seats, looking at the woman in front of them with fear and anticipation. Both knew, that it was too soon for the doctor to bring good news.

Seeing the expression in the men's faces, she continued, "I'm Talia Sikes, director of the nursing department. I know this is kind of unusual, but Dr. Sonksen asked me to talk to you. He is too busy trying to stabilize your son..." Looking at Dean, she added, ...and brother."

There was a very small sigh from the two hunters, if the doctor was too busy to talk to them because he was trying to help Sam, it at least meant, the injured boy was still alive.

"Why don't we sit down?" Talia pointed at the chair and waited until the two were seated before she herself sat down.

She took a breath to compose herself. After all, this wasn't something she did every day.

"Sam's injuries are more serious, than what we can deal with here. We called for a chopper to air lift him to a trauma center approximately 100 miles away. Dr. Sonksen felt this is his only chance."

"Do what ever it takes, I want my son to get the best care possible." John swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice steady.

"I have to tell you though, there is a big chance he will not survive the flight in his condition." She explained.

The two men looked at each other, neither needing to express his feelings. It was Dean who found his voice first, "What if you keep him here?"

The nurse was visibly shaken but regained her composure within seconds, "He wouldn't survive until morning. I'm sorry, I wish, I had better news for you."

The silence following her words was oppressing, as each man tried to come to terms with his feelings.

"Can we see him, before they take him to the chopper?" the younger hunter asked without making eye contact.

"Certainly, I will make arrangements and then come and take you to him!" the nurse said, while she stood up, happy to have a valid excuse to finish the conversation.

She left the two Winchesters with their heads hanging, neither able to look at the other for fear he would loose the fight with own emotions, if seeing the others written in his face.

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It took twenty minutes before Nurse Sikes came back and quietly lead them into a treatment room, that looked more than a little bit messy. A janitor in dark purple scrubs was sweeping the floor that was littered with empty packages. The blood splatters on the equipment tray and the floor made Dean pale even more, if this was possible, mainly because he realized it was his brother's blood that had been spilled here.

Two nurses in black flight suits were busy getting the youngest Winchester ready for the transport. An older man in green scrubs was standing beside the young man, listening to his chest. He looked up as the two older hunter stepped closer.

"I'm Dr. Mark Sonksen, I treated Sam." He gave them a slight smile, that was an attempt to sooth them, rather then a message of good news.

Dean actually had to turn away after taking an initial look at his brother, while John just stood there, quietly taking in his appearance. His youngest boy was connected to a ventilator, that steadily pushed air into him through a tube running down his throat. Several IV lines were running into a port right below his left clavicle. His chest was littered with bruises and even to John's eyes the distension of his abdomen was undeniable. In addition there was a tube inserted into each side of the rib cage, both of which were draining red liquid. His right arm was wrapped up in thick gauze and stabilized with a brace, as were both his legs.

The oldest Winchester finally took the last few steps toward his son and tenderly stroked the pale face. His first instinct had been to pull his hand through the thick head of hair, yet the thick bandages wrapped around his head prevented him from doing so.

"How is he ?" His voice only a whisper but it was enough to draw his oldest back to his brother's side, now looking his sibling over with the same distress, that could be found in his father's eyes just moments before.

"He has severe internal injuries, the extent of which only surgery can reveal. Both of his lungs collapsed due to bleeding into the chest cavity but we were able to stabilize them for right now. We have no idea how extensive his head injury is, right now his pupils are sluggish and unequal but at least both are reactive to light. I didn't feel we had the time for a scan, He needs to get proper treatment as soon as possible, although, even that might not be enough to save him."

"Doctor, he is ready for transfer!" one of the flight nurses interrupted his speech.

"Alright, let's take him out." the physician ordered.

"Stop, please, I just need a minute!" Dean pleaded, never taking his eyes of his brother.

Instinct told him to deny the request but the look in the younger man's eyes let him decide against his better judgment. This kid needed the time to say his goodbye to a brother he night not see again in this life. So he just nodded and stepped back, quietly talking to the two nurses.

Dean stroked his fingers down the younger man's cheek, his lower lip quivering as he tried to hold the sobs in, that threatened to escape him. "Don't leave me Sammy, please, don't leave me." Unable to hold back any longer, he broke down and walked away as tears streamed down his face.

Looking at his youngest one last time, John fell back into military mode, hoping his words would convince the baby of the family to hold on, "You are not going to die, do you understand me? You are not going to die, that's an order, son!"

With that he walked back to the waiting area, where Dean stood with his back to him, staring out the window. The older man silently drew him into his arms, padding his back with his large hands.

"He is going to be ok, Dean. He is a Winchester."

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The two man made the drive to the trauma center under two hours. Neither of them was speaking throughout the whole journey. As they walked up to the hospital triage desk, both of them had difficulty to hide the shaking of their hands. The dark haired nurse waved at them to sit down, but either man declined, too anxious to find out, if their youngest had survived the trip or not.

"John Watson, my son Sam was brought in per chopper a while ago."

"Ah, yes, let me see here!" the women typed something into the computer, then looked up at them, "He is in surgery right now. Why don't I call someone to show you up there."

The relief, that flooded Dean made him gasp. Sam was still alive. They were operating on him, that had to mean, there was hope. After seeing his brother in the treatment room several hours earlier, he had shut down his emotions. Too afraid to hope, he had in typical Winchester manner pushed them into the deepest corner of his consciousness, keeping constant pressure on it, to not let them resurface again. As he exchanged a glance with the oldest Winchester, he could tell his father had taken up the same defense mechanism and only now allowed himself to let some of them surface again. He felt John's hand squeeze his shoulder in quiet reassurance.

"You were right, dad, he is a Winchester." For the first time since the accident, there was an ever so small smile on his face. Just maybe there was a chance for Sammy after all.

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When the two men entered the surgical waiting area, they were unaware of how long the wait would be. And maybe this was more of a blessing, because when they looked back at the last six hours of waiting, neither one could understand how he made it through it. Even the endless questions from Dean to anyone walking by the widely open door, didn't yield any results. Although being desperate for answers himself, John was almost glad, when his exhausted older child finally lost the fight and fell into a restless sleep on the cushioned couch. The ferocity with which the young man latched on to each passerby, made him fear eventually security would be called and throw them out. Even his attempts to calm him were fruitless, it seemed, that the influence, he usually exceeded over Dean, were wiped out, when his 'protective older brother instincts' kicked into full gear.

The oldest Winchester kept watch, wishing he could take the nightmares away, that were plaguing the younger man. He wished he could go back in time and prevent to what happened to Sam, yet he also realized, the only way to really make a difference, would be to prevent their mother from going up in flames. But how he would have done that, he had no idea, after all, at the time he had no idea that anything supernatural actually existed. Like most people, he thought those were just stories and legends, made up for entertainment and to scare little children.

The only thing that might have worked, was also the one thing he couldn't imagine he ever would have done. He was sure, even Mary, given the choice between being killed by a demon or giving birth to Sam, would have not given it a second thought. Her second child completed the longing, that had started to blossom in her, when she had first learned she was pregnant with Dean.

John smiled, when he thought back at the look on his wife's face, when she took her first look at the wrapped up bundle in his arms. It had reflected her feelings so clearly, he didn't need to hear her words, when she said, "John, we are complete now."

He suddenly remembered the warm emotions flowing through him at that time, something he hadn't been able to experience since that night on November 2nd, 1983. The hurry, he had been in, to drive over to his parents-in-law and pick up Dean to let him in on the completeness. It had been a wonderful, perfect life, that lasted all but six month. And yet, he would never be willing to give this time up. For the first time he became aware, that these six month were something to be grateful for, because it was more than many other people ever got. And with everything he lost, he still had so much left. Dean and Sam were Mary's legacy. She would never really die, as long as her boys were alive.

"Oh God, please, don't take my sons, I'll give anything for them!"

He wasn't aware he had spoken the words out loud, until Dean's sleepy voice brought him out of his brooding, "Dad? What's going on? Any news on Sammy?"

Pulling himself together, he put on a neutral face, hoping his son didn't hear the words he had spoken, "Nothing yet, but that could actually be good news."

Dean gave him a doubting look but kept quiet. Sitting up, he just said, "I need some Java, you want some?"

"Sure, get a large one." John requested, happy, that his oldest found something to do, even if it was only a coffee run.

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Dean was on his way back with a large cup of black coffee in each hand. As he rounded the corner, he caught a glance of a white coat disappearing into the waiting area. Hurrying his steps, he just made it to see his father shaking hands with the graying woman in green scrubs and a white lab coat.

John waved him over, "Dean, this is Dr. Maria Gonzales, she is Sam's surgeon. Dr. Gonzales, this is my oldest son Dean."

"How is Sam?" the older brother, would have dropped the cups, if his father wouldn't have taken them from him.

"Why don't we sit down, it will be much easier to talk." the Hispanic doctor suggested.

It was clear, she was not going to say anything until they were seated, so Dean hurried and sat down, drawing John with him.

"Sam made it through the surgery, he is in recovery now." the doctor said, trying to start off with some good news.

"Good!" John stated matter of factly, knowing there was more to come.

"He is in critical condition." she admitted, "He coded twice on the table, the second time it took us 10 minutes to bring him back."

"But he is going to live, isn't he?" the older man asked, expressing the question, that Dean was unable to ask.

"I wish, I could tell you, but to be honest, it is to soon too tell. We had to cut the surgery short, leaving some of his injuries unrepaired. His condition was deteriorating too much to continue on."

"But doesn't that make things worse?" Dean finally got his voice back.

"Not necessarily. Continuing at this point, would have put him under to much stress. His heart wouldn't have been able to take it. We were able to fix most of the major injuries, the smaller ones can wait for now." She explained, hoping to take some of their anxiety away without giving false hope.

"When you say major injuries, what does that mean?"

"We repaired the damage to both of his lungs and the tear in his liver. Dr. Burnett, one of our orthopedic surgeons, reduced the compound fracture on his left arm at the same time. Sam also had a subdural hematoma, that's bleeding into the space between the surface of the brain and the skull. Dr. Abernathy, the chief of neurosurgery, evacuated it and hopefully that will be enough to control the pressure in his head."

She stopped, having to compose herself for a moment, all too aware how bad her words had to sound to the two men in front of her. If she wasn't convinced before, she was now by the reaction she received.

"Can we see Sam?" both man burst out at the same time, like it had been rehearsed.

There were no more questions at the moment. Neither man able to process any more. As she watched them, she observed the clenched jaws and the clouded eyes, the slight quiver of the younger man's lower lip and the way the older put his shaking arm around him, that brought the question up, if it was to bring the son comfort or keep the father from breaking down.

The doctor was sadly aware of the many times she had to bring bad news to families in the past. It never had been easy and many times it took all she had, but for some reason, this seemed worse then any of the other times. There was something about these men she met only a short time ago, maybe it was the air of sadness surrounding them. A sadness that didn't just come from the sudden crisis they faced. Or maybe it was the connection she felt between them. But whatever it was, right now it made her wish she was anywhere but here.

"I will have the nurse get you as soon as Sam got moved to the ICU. Now, please excuse me, I need to check on my patient." She hurried out without looking back, leaving the two Winchesters alone with their thoughts.

After sitting unmoving for a moment, Dean jumped up without warning, "I don't care what anyone says, Sam is going to live and I intent to be on his side and help him no matter how long it will take."

He looked at his father for support and was not disappointed. The expression on the older man's face told him, he wasn't ready to give up on Sam either.

"I don't know what we need to do to support your brother, but you can count me in to be on his side all the way." Remembering his past actions, he felt compelled to add, "And I promise, I will not bail out on the two of you!"

TBC

_Please send me some of your wonderful reviews, or even constructive criticisms. If there are any questions about some of the medical things, please let me know, I think I explained things, but I might have missed something. Hugs, Vonnie_


	11. Chapter 11

_Thanks for your kind reviews! You continue to amaze me._

**Standard Disclaimer applied!**

For the last three hours, Dean was sitting beside his brother's bed, quietly holding the younger man's hand in both of his, carefully making sure not to disturb the IV line in Sam's forearm. Although for once the nurse had assured him, it would be a little more difficult to pull this line out. She had called it a pick line, a small tube that led through a large blood vessel to the heart and was secured with sutures to the skin of his arm and covered with a clear dressing. Right now it was connected to two bags supplying fluids and Antibiotic to Sam.

Until a moment ago, John was on the other side of the bed, quietly stroking the swollen and discolored fingers peeking out of the padding in the end of the splint. Then he had suddenly stood up and left, only telling his oldest he would be back soon.

Being left alone with Sam, Dean leaned back in the chair, still holding on to his hand and let his eyes glide over the still body. His sasquatch sibling looked small in the bed, not so much because it was a large bed, actually, it was just your average hospital sleeping accommodation, but more because of the transparent appearance of his skin in any spot that wasn't covered with dark purple almost black bruises. The large dressings on his right upper abdomen and his chest only added to this picture.

For a moment Dean closed his eyes, unsure if he really wanted to further look over his little brother's injuries. He was glad Sam wasn't awake, because there was no way those injuries wouldn't cause him severe pain otherwise. Finally he opened his eyes again, deciding that just because he didn't look at them, wouldn't make them go away.

"You know kiddo, I should bring a bunch of young girls in here to take care of you. Boy, having one arm and both legs all wrapped up and splinted makes you look so helpless, they would be all over you. I can see it now, two blonds in tight shirts giving you a sponge bath while you're sleeping. You open those hazel puppy dog eyes of yours and the swoon all over you, while you turn all red and try to pull the sheet over yourself." He couldn't help but smirk at his own story, wishing it would be this easy to get his brother to wake up.

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John Winchester was leaning against the wall in the entry way of the hospital. He had come here, because the use of cell phones was forbidden in the ICU area. Having finished the call he needed to make, he turned the phone off and stuffed it back into his pocket. Slowly he walked toward the elevator and pushed the up button, slightly surprised when it opened instantly.

On the way up, he thought about the conversation he just had. He didn't really want to leave his youngest room, yet it turned out it had been the right thing to do. He was sure Dean would agree as soon as he told him about the news.

The dinging of the elevator door opening pulled him out of his thoughts. Determined, he made his way back to the unit and walked into the small room. After pulling the door closed, he paused for a moment, taking in the way his firstborn was pushing a few stray hairs out his brothers face, careful not to disturbe the gauze bandage wrapped around his head. The tenderness in the touch was something Dean exclusively reserved for his sibling, had ever since Sam had been a newborn.

"Dean, I've got some good news." He started, waiting until he got his son's full attention, before he sat down, "I just got of the phone with Jim, he got a ritual that will protect Sam from Rebekah getting to him in here."

"Is it going to save him from her?" the other hunter looked at him expectantly.

The older man wanted to look away but thought better of it, "I wish it was, but it will only prevent her from getting within ten feet of him. Jim thinks, this will be enough while he is unconscious."

Dean gave him a doubting look, "Why would that be enough? She doesn't need to touch him to make him do things."

"True, but only if he can listen. As long as he is not awake, she will have to make direct contact to be to influence him." The Winchester patriarch put his hand on Sam's face, stroking his pallid cheek, "And I pray to god he is right, because that would at least buy us some time."

Dean looked very solem, when he stated, "Yeah, me too, because if he is wrong, we might not get another change."

He watched as his father got up and walked over to the window, staring out into the darkness of t he night. By the reflection in the glass he could see a lonely tear running down his cheek, before his arm came up and wiped it away. There was new determination in his eyes, when he finally turned around to face his children.

"Well, I guess, I better go find an empty office with a fax machine. Shouldn't be too difficult at this time of night. Jim is going to face me the ritual as soon as I call him with the number."

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Dean was lost in his own thought, but looked up, when his father returned. It had taken him longer than expected, due to some difficulty with the fax transmission. Only one the third attempt had the paper been clearly readable. Relieved, he didn't bother with reading the whole thing, but rather returned to his sons side, eager to try the ritual.

From the look on the younger man's face he could tell, Dean was just as eager.

"I got it, but I haven't looked at it yet. Let's see." For a moment he concentrated on the page in his hand, then he said, "It looks like, all we have to do is to put our hands on Sam and read the words together. Seems almost too easy!" He added.

"Right now I don't care, let's just do this."

Moving to either side of the bed, John laid the paper on the bed, then each of them put a hand on Sam's head and one on his chest, mindful not to put any pressure in the touch. Together they spoke the Latin words of ritual.

"Senior Jesus Cristo Nazarenus increpo vos. Senior Adonai increpo vos. Ego vindicator Cruor of Agna, effundo Cruor of of Senior Jesus Cristos, ut vos licentia. In nomen of Jesus adepto sicco!"

After finishing either man stood wordlessly for a moment, adding a silent prayer in the hope of strengthening the results.

"Excuse me..."

The voice of Dr. Gonzales startled them out of their meditations. The two men exchanged glances, unsure just how much the doctor had heard and observed.

"I didn't mean to intrude, I understand, if you want to continue your silent prayers."

"No, no." Dean assured her, relieved that she obviously just walked in a second ago, "It's ok, really, you are not interrupting anything."

She smiled understandingly, "I just thought, you might want to hear what our treatment plan is for Sam."

Again there were looks exchanged, this time more worried and anxious about what the woman in front of them was going to tell them.

"I told you earlier, we had to cut the surgery short, so that means, we are going to give Sam a chance to recover a while, before we try to fix the rest of his problems. We have him on several antibiotics to prevent infection and some IV meds, that hopefully will help bring the swelling in his brain down..."

"Swelling? You didn't talk about that earlier!" John interrupted her.

"I'm sorry, its kind of a natural process with any head injury. Actually not just with head injuries, most other injuries also cause some amount of it, only if it is in the skull, there is no way to expand and that's what makes it so dangerous. To put it simply, the meds should help draw the extra fluid back into the blood vessels. We also will continue to transfuse him with blood, to replace what he lost and is still loosing from some of the more minor damage in his abdomen." She paused, seeing the worried looks she received.

"It's ok, I plan to keep a close eye on the hemorrhages, if there are any complications, we will be ready to go back in any time. But as I said earlier, right now, he wouldn't tolerate the stress of the procedure. The longer we can wait, the better his chances will be."

At this time, she interrupted herself and went over to check the monitors, that recorded Sam's vital signs, then pulled her stethoscope out, listening to his lungs, heart and abdomen with intensity.

After she finished, she went on to explain, "He has a tear in his right kidney, but it is minor and we are hoping, it will repair itself, if given enough time. We are observing his urine output. I know right now it has to look scary to you." She pointed at the bag filled with dark red fluid, hanging from the side of the bed, "But belief me, it doesn't take a lot of blood to make this dark red color. He has several fractured ribs on either side and we have to watch them carefully, so they don't cause any further damage to his lungs. His right leg worries us a little, the bone is splintered right below the knee and his knee cap is also shattered. It is very unstable and Dr. Burnett is afraid, there is some major damage to the muscles and ligaments. At least the other leg is a simple fracture of the femur right above the knee. That one should be easily repaired with a plate and some screws."

"You're actually telling us, there is one injury, that can be fixed without problems?"

Dr. Gonzales didn't miss the sarcasm in John's voice, but chose to ignore it, knowing very well the stress the father was under.

"Right now, we are just going to monitor Sam very closely, but I do have to tell you, the next 48 hours are going to be very critical. He is highly unstable and the slightest complication could turn things completely against him."

"Ok, now I want you to stop right there and explain something to me!" Dean's voice had more than just a tinge of anger to it as he walked into the comfort zone of the Hispanic doctor, his right index finger raised in front of his face "You've talking about all the injuries you fixed earlier and all the ones you still need to fix and then you tell us that you are going to monitor him, yet at the same time you say he is highly unstable. How in the world is that going to work? You just wait until he either dies or lives?"

He was now only inches from the half a head smaller woman, whose initial instinct was to turn and run. That was until she saw the tears sparkling in the expressive green eyes. And there was something else in them, as Dean Winchester unwittingly gave her a rare glimpse into his soul, she could see how lost the young man in front of her was. How his will to live depended on his brother. And suddenly she felt sorry for John, knowing he was in the process of loosing two sons instead of one.

Calming she put a hand on the younger hunter's arm, "I understand you are angry, you have every right to be and you are also right, that there is very little we can do right now other then sit back and wait. It is up to Sam and his will to live now. But I promise you, I will fight for him with everything I have."

She looked up at him, so that he could see her eyes and it was clear, she meant every word she said.

Thanks, I'm sorry for what I said!" The young hunter lowered his eyes in order to hide any other emotions in them.

"All forgiven, now let me tell you how we are going to help Sam in this fight and what you and your father can do." She smiled, then continued, "We will continue to keep your brother on the antibiotics and the medication against the swelling in his brain. In addition, we will keep a very close eye on his hemoglobin and transfuse him with blood as often as he needs it. And, I will have either myself or my partner Dr. Jonas Killjohn on 24 hour alert, in case we have to do any unscheduled surgery. I will make sure Jonas will come by this afternoon, so you can meet him. He is the best, when it comes to abdominal and thoracic surgery. You don't find many surgeons that do both and do it as well as he does."

"You said, you were going to tell us, what we can do to help my son." John laid his arm on Dean's shoulder, as he stepped forward.

"Yes, I did, it is actually very simple, talk to him, hold his hand, let him know you are here for him and if you have the feeling something is changing, let us know. I belief strongly, that people that have a connection to the patient, can sense changes before the monitors can. So go with your gut instinct and let us know, if you think there is a change."

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John paced the small room from the window to the bathroom door and back. This was his tenth round and he finally felt, he would be able to sit for a while again. After being hunched over in the chair beside his youngest bed for the last two hours, he needed to stretch his legs and the rest of his large frame for a while.

At the moment he was alone with Sam, having insisted four hours ago that Dean was going to get some sleep. His older boy, usually a good listener and an even better follower, had refused for the longest time, a whole hour to be exact, to leave his brother's side. Finally the family patriarch had seen the need to take drastic measures and had threatened to sedate the younger man. Well aware, his father was very capable of doing so, Dean had finally relented and left to go down to the parking lot to sleep in the Impala.

Still, John had expected to see his eldest back within the hour. By not doing so, Dean clearly expressed how exhausted he really was.

"How did I get kids, that are this stubborn?" He asked himself, realizing he had unintentionally spoken out loud.

For a second he almost could hear Mary's cheerful laughter, telling him, he needed to look in the mirror. Even after 22 years without her, he still felt as close to her as when she was around. She had been the love of his life, the one person that started, where he ended, and with this completing him. To loose her had been like loosing half of himself and only his boys had been what kept him alive ever since then. They were an extension of her, Dean in his looks and somewhat, in a very masculine way, his build, and Sam in his mannerisms and his sensitivity.

Maybe this truly was, what still made him feel so close to his dead wife, the way she was merged into their children. He never totally lost her, because he could see her in his sons.

Sitting back down, he grabbed Sam's hand and stroked it, "I can't loose you Sammy, it would kill me. I know this is selfish, but I just can't help it." John wiped a tear from his eye, glad that nobody else was around to see him, "I'm sorry, you never got to know your mother. She loved you and your brother so much. You would have loved her voice, singing to you. Matter of fact you did." he laughed, "I remember how she would sooth you, when you couldn't sleep at night. It's funny, come to think of it, she never sang you lullabies, because you would cry, if she did. Instead your favorite was 'Imagine' by John Lennon. Kinda funny, really. Another one you really liked was 'Let it be'."

"Sammy always liked that girly music." Dean's voice startled the older man out of his story.

"Hey, did you sleep or just hang around the door and wait until your time was up?" The older man grinned, judging by his appearance, he knew Dean got at least some sleep.

There was an embarrassed smirk on the hunter's face, "I woke up because I set the alarm on my cell."

"You look better, so I guess it was worth it?"

"Yeah, but how is Sam?" Dean let his eyes glide of his brother's still body, before moving on to the monitor readings, "His blood pressure is down a little and his heart rate is up. What's going on?" His voice expressed the anxiety he felt.

"Calm down, the nurse was in a little while ago and started another transfusion.. She said it was normal to see these changes while he is still bleeding, that's why they keep giving him blood."

He could see by the look on his oldest face, that he wasn't really placated by the explanation. Yet Dean choose to keep quiet and sit down, focusing his attention on his brother. Once again, John was surprised to see him change from the mouthy charmer into the gentle, soft spoken big brother. There was no doubt, that Sam had a power of Dean that reached beyond anything John had ever seen before. The younger could have used it to his advantage at any time, only he never really had been aware of it.

"We're loosing him."

The older Winchester looked up at Dean, surprised by the words that had come out of the blue. The smooth face was void of any emotion, but the father knew his son well enough to see through the mask.

"I said we're loosing him, dad."

"You're wrong, Dean, I know it is touch and go, but he is holding his own. The nurse said earlier, they all were surprised how well he actually is doing."

"No, I can feel him slipping away. Sammy is dying."

If John had any doubt in the seriousness of the statement, the last word convinced him, that Dean truly expected his brother not to survive.

TBC

_The English translation for the Latin is this, 'The Lord Jesus Christ of Nazareth rebuke you. The Lord Adonai rebuke you. I claim the Blood of the Lamb, the shed Blood of the Lord Jesus Christ, that you leave. In the name of Jesus get out!' It is actually a meant as a protection prayer when you are attacked by evil spirits. The translation is from a translation site and I have no idea how exact it is._

_Hope you still like it, let me know, what you think._


	12. Chapter 12

_Thanks for your reviews, they make me feel good._

**Standard Disclaimer applies!**

The day was dragging along for the two older Winchester men. Ever since he made the statement about his brother dying, Dean refused to leave Sam's side. John didn't even try to convince him otherwise anymore, knowing, that for once he was powerless. Nothing was more important to Dean than his baby brother.

Right now the eldest Winchester still held out hope that the prediction was wrong, as nothing seemed to change in the condition of youngest. There actually had been a slight improvement in his heart rate and blood pressure shortly after the second transfusion ran in, yet it didn't change anything in Dean's stance. He continued to sit beside the bed, hunched over and holding on to the younger boys hand like his life depended on it, and in a sense, it did.

When Dr. Killjohn walked in and introduced himself shortly after noon, Dean didn't even acknowledge him. The tall, almost skinny looking man carried an air of confidence, that bordered on condescension with him and for a while John was tempted to tell him to get the hell away from them. In the end he bit his tongue though, as the surgeon proved himself by the way he carefully moved around Sam's limp form, assessing him with gentle, yet skillful hands. It convinced the father, that he was indeed the excellent physician as which Dr. Gonzales had described him. Still, for the first time in hours he was actually thankful for the intensity with which Dean clung to Sam, because it made him oblivious to the surgeons attitude. He knew his son would have rubbed noses with the guy, telling him exactly what he could do with his imagined superiority.

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As supper time rolled John's worry about Dean started to pick up, when he refused the sandwiches the aide brought in for them. As a matter of fact, he didn't even look at his father when the older hunter spoke to him.

"Dean, you need to eat something, you are no good to Sammy if you starve yourself and collapse!"

John tried again, hoping to get through to his oldest this time, "Come on, you have to eat, please, if nothing else, do it for Sam." Yet, once again, the result was the same as the first time. So he decided to change tactics to the one thing that always worked for Dean.

"Dean, you will get up right this moment and eat, that's an order!"

The lack of a reaction from his eldest started to make him with an ambiance of uneasiness. A feeling of impending doom started creeping up in him, as he looked at both his sons dying right in front of him. One of his injuries, the other of a broken heart. And here he was, the mighty ghost and demon hunter John Winchester, powerless to save his own children. And then his dread slowly changed into anger. There was no way, he would just stand there and watch it happen. Determined to drag Dean away and force feed him, if he had to, he took a step forward, when he found himself held back by a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't John, what ever you were going to do, don't do it!"

A calm but strong voice from behind, made him turn around, coming face to face with one of his best friends.

"Jim Murphy!"

The Winchester patriarch never thought, he could ever feel this relieved by laying eyes on the catholic priest. Although he was usually well versed in hiding his feelings, he wasn't able this time. The despair was clearly written on his face and it was something that made the other man understand how serious things were. Looking over to the bed, he assessed the situation, than pulled the oldest Winchester out of the room.

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After closing the door behind them, Jim Murphy looked at the man, who now was leaning against the wall, "Okay, tell me what's going on here. I know you told me a witch is after Sam and she has him under her spell. She needs him, so she can come back to life and you had to sedate him, to keep him from her. That was when I gave you the protection ritual." He paused, trying to make eye contact, finding, that the big hunter in front of him avoided his gaze, "How come, you didn't mention anything about Sam being hurt?"

"How did you find out?" John's voice was flat.

"When I tried to send the fax, I hit three for the last number instead of six and got the voice mail for some trauma center, telling me patient information was available between the hours of 8 AM and 7 PM.

You know, I'm not stupid, the whole story sounded kind of strange, especially because even over the phone, I couldn't miss the desperation in your voice. So after I send the fax to you, I tried to call you back several times, to find out what really was going on. When I couldn't reach you, I finally called a friend and had him hack into the hospital system to check on all your aliases I could think of. After a long time, he found a Sam Watson listed in ICU. If you lied to me, it had to be bad."

He didn't have to asked the next question, because his friend answered it before he had a chance to, "I don't know why I didn't tell you. I know it seems odd, but I really have no idea, and no excuse.." A sigh escaped him and he took a deep breath, "But I'm glad you're here now."

He put a hand on the priest's shoulder, trying to steady himself, as he started to shake uncontrollably. Looking up, tears were running down his cheeks.

"Okay, that's it, let's sit down over there." He pointed to the family lounge at the end of the hall, before he dragged his friend there.

Giving the other man a chance to recover, he stayed quiet, using the time to observe him. He didn't remember ever seeing John Winchester loose his composure, at least not like this. Getting angry and lashing out, yes but not crying. He send a silent prayer to heaven, asking for strength and a way to help his friend.

After a long, heavy silence, John finally looked up, "Jim, I'm loosing my sons. Sam is dying and when he does, Dean is going to follow him."

The whole story that burst out of him after that, left the other man gasping for breath. He had come across so many things in his life, natural and supernatural, good and evil, but this just seemed too surreal. Having learned to accept that all things had a purpose, he now found himself for the first time in years asking, "Why, Lord?" After everything that already happened in the life of Winchesters since Mary's death, it just seemed like they didn't deserve this.

Finally finding his voice, he said, "I promise, I will do everything in my power to help. I'm owed a lot of favors and I will use them all, if I have too. And I know, there are a lot of hunters out there, that will do the same thing."

"Thanks!" John looked up, still not sure, if he could trust his voice, but comforted by the presence of his friend.

"Come on, let's go, see the boys!" Jim pulled him up and together they made there way back to the small ICU room.

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Dean felt like time was no longer of any consequence to him. Buried deep inside his own mind, unable to think or feel, he just sat there, holding on to Sam's hand, like nothing else in the world existed. Somewhere in the far away distance, he could hear the deep timbre of his father's voice, but it seemed too unimportant to let it into his world. After a while another familiar voice joint in, for a moment tempting him to listen, but it was only a fleeting thought, leaving him just as soon as it appeared. Only Sam mattered. He couldn't protect him, he failed, but if he could just hold on to his hand, maybe he could keep him here.

The sudden silence in the room, only interrupted by the whooshing of the ventilator and the constant peeping of the monitor, went unnoticed by him. Were he was, it was peaceful and painless, beyond any worry and suffering, just him and Sam.

This changed without warning, when a hand was put on his shoulder and a familiar voice called to him with an urgency, that didn't allow for it to be ignored. It took him a moment to comprehend the meaning of the words spoken, as he reluctantly made his way back to reality.

As if the speaker was aware of his struggle, he repeated his words, "Dean, you need to snap out of it, we can't defeat Rebekah without you."

Still feeling a little off, the older Winchester brother turned his head, without ever letting go of Sam's hand.

Becoming aware of the fact, that it was the priest, who had spoken to him, he asked in a confused voice, "Pastor Jim? Where did you come from?"

"Home." was the single worded answer he received.

"Yeah, but how did you get here so fast? You couldn't have driven."

The older man smiled, "I have connections, I flew." He purposely pointed upward, knowing what he was implying with this gesture.

Dean couldn't help but smirk at that, "No, not even you have that kind of connections, or do you?" He added, when he looked in the other man's face.

There was a brief moment of silence, in which the man of god enjoyed the doubt in the younger hunters eyes.

"A member of my congregation has a small private plane. He was going to fly to a city about two hours from here, so I asked him, if he would take me. Told him one of my nephews was seriously injured and his father and brother needed me."

"You lied?" Dean asked.

"No, I always saw you as family, but I did tell him, you weren't blood relation." He smiled again, patting the shoulder his hand was still on, several times, "Now, let's talk about that Rebekah character and see what we can do about her."

He pulled a chair over and sat down, waving for John, who was still standing by the door to join them. After listening to all the details of their meetings with the Chamber's witch from Dean's prospective, he read through the important parts of the two journals, which the oldest Winchester had handed him.

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It remained quiet in the small room, while the priest was studying the journals. Both Winchesters were deep in their own thoughts, holding watch over their youngest. John was grateful, that his friend had been able to pull his oldest back from the edge, although he knew, unless they got Sam back, it would be only temporary.

Dusk settled in, as the shadows grew longer in the last gold of the sun shining through the windows. Looking at Sam as the rays gently moved over his face, the change in lighting took away some of the translucent paleness of his face and gave the dark brown mop a copper shimmer, making him look almost animated. Only the dark bruising and the ventilator tube disturbed the picture.

Unexpectedly, there was an explosion of glass, making all three men jump from their chairs at the same time, the journal he was holding, sliding out of Jim Murphy's hands. Looking at the glass windows overlooking the hallway, they found one of it broken, countless shards lying all over the floor inside the room. Outside, in the hallway stood the apparition of Rebekah Chambers, her face distorted in anger, her green orbs filled with pure hate.

"You will pay, if you try to mess with me, he is mine..., mine..., mine alone!" She screeched at the trio.

Dean looked at her and stepped forward, pushing John's hand, who tried to hold him back, to the side.

"Well, he was my brother first and you can't have him."

If the situation wouldn't have been so serious, both older man would have laughed, as he sounded like a child defending his toy.

"He belongs to me, Dean Winchester, nothing can keep him from me." Without warning she started to laugh, "You can keep me away from him, but it is too late to keep him from me, I own him and he will come to me soon. There is nothing you can do."

Once again, she let her evil laughter resound, before she put her hand out and made the other window explode, hitting the men with the pieces. Then she disappeared, leaving an eerie quiet behind, as the three tried to recover.

After a second, John and Jim, who had stepped up to stand on either side of Dean, looked at the younger man, noting, he had not been hit by a single splinter. Both of them were covered with glass, bearing multiple small cuts on their faces and arms.

The hallway came alive, as several nurses, aides and Dr. Gonzales came running into the room.

"What happened?" The Hispanic doctor asked.

After a long pregnant pause, it was the priest who finally answered, "We really don't know, the first window exploded, so we jumped up and then the other one broke too."

Listening to his own voice, he was well aware of how lame this sounded, but couldn't come with anything else in a hurry. The doctor though, seemed to buy the explanation and went on to check them for injuries.

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It took the hospital staff only minutes to move Sam into another room at the end of the hall. This one was slightly bigger and actually had a sleeper couch in it. Taking care of the injured proofed much more time consuming, not because the injuries were serious, but because neither man was willing to leave the two younger ones alone.

Dr. Gonzales shook her head, she never seen this much stubbornness in one room and she seen a lot. She was hoping the priest would set an example, which in a way, he did, yet not in the way she was hoping for. He was more adamant than John to be treated right here and then, rather than going down to the emergency room. Finally the doctor gave up and provided them with the care they needed. To her relief, none of the cuts where large or deep enough to be in need of stitches. So she cleaned them making sure there were no pieces of glass left in them, before covering them with antibiotic ointment, and in some cases bandaids.

Just to be sure, she gave Dean a thorough look over also, finding, that he really had gotten away without a single scratch. Although she had checked on Sam earlier, she took another quick look at the monitors, before she walked out, leaving the three to their thoughts.

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It seemed odd to Dean, that he had gotten away without a scratch. Talking to his father and Pastor Jim about it didn't solve the mystery either, as neither man had an explanation for it. Finally they decided to let it rest, hoping that it meant nothing. Instead their conversation went on to the more pressing issue of how to get rid of Rebekah. It was something they talked about most the night, at times getting into a heated discussion of what to do. In the end they still didn't have a solution and so they put their hope into the favors Jim had called upon. The priest left the ICU floor ever so often to make some calls and check on his voice mail. So far he had come up empty, but all of them knew, that research would take time. Now they just prayed, Sam would have the time needed.

Around 3 AM the small group grew quiet, as each of them got lost in his own thoughts. Dean continued to sit at his brother's bed side, refusing to give up his place. Neither of the other man was even trying to take it away from him. John took the spot on the other side up, letting his eyes move back and forth between both of his sons. Jim Murphy kept in the background, taken up his seat on the couch. From time to time he stood and move over to the head of the bed, careful not to disturb any of the machines Sam was connected to. He would put his hands on the young man's head and gently stroke his thick dark mop, mouthing a silent prayer, before he returned to his seat.

His memories moved back to the time, when he first had become friends with John Winchester. There had been many occasions, when the boys spend several weeks at the parsonage with him, while their father was on one of his extended hunting trips.

One occasion in particular came to mind. Little Sammy was not quite three, Dean had just turned seven, but was already the primary caretaker for his little brother. It was during morning mass, that the side door of the church at opened and a split naked toddler still dripping wet, ran in and continued down the main isle, followed by his distressed older brother, holding a towel in his hands. It was amazing, how fast the short chubby legs made their way to the back of the church and then to the side, to come running back toward the front.

He had watched the few parishioners, that were mostly sitting in the front rows, erupt in laughter at the site of the curly haired little tyke. And then it happened, as Sammy ran up the steps to the altar, his short stubby legs tripped and he fell flat, hitting his little nose on the edge of the upper step. Initially there had been a shocked silence as everyone, including the toddler froze. It lasted until the blood flowing from the little nares reached the lips and he became aware of it, then a heartbreaking scream burst from the small child's throat. And suddenly everyone scrambled toward the little guy, trying to comfort him. It was Dean though, who slipped through the worshipers and grabbed his little brother, wrapping him into the towel and picking him up. Unable to scold him, he held him tight, not caring about the blood dripping onto his t-shirt.

"I've got you Sammy, you're gonna be alright!", He whispered in the little ones ears, carefully wiping the blood off his face, "Sorry, Pastor Jim, he got away from me, when I got the towel out." He apologized, before he carried his now quietly sobbing brother back to the house.

Jim Murphy smiled, remembering the many "ooh" and "uh" from his faithful flock, that instantly had fallen in love with the cute toddler and his protective older brother. There had been many questions later on, about the well being of the tod and toys had rained in for both of the boys for weeks afterwards.

The sounds of alarms tore the priest out of his thoughts and he looked over at the distressed faces of his friends. Nurses and several physicians started running into the room, some of them pushing the three men out, while the others scrambled around Sam's bed.

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Twenty minutes later, both Dr. Gonzales and Dr. Killjohn faced two men, that looked like they were ready to collapse, while the third was trying to keep them from doing so.

"John, Dean, this is not going to be easy." It was the female doctor, that took over the talking, "It looks like we can't wait any longer, we have to take Sam into surgery right now. Something ruptured in his abdomen and it caused some massive bleeding."

"But... but you said, he needed time to recover." John had difficulty putting his thoughts into voice.

"I know, but we don't have a choice anymore. I need your permission for the surgery, but before you decide, I have to let you know, that without the surgery Sam will die, but even with it, there is only a very slim chance, that he will make it." She looked very somber, watching the men struggle to digest the news.

After what seemed like an eternity, Dean straitened up and said in a voice, that left no room for error, "I'm not sitting there and watch my brother die, I want him to have any chance he can get. So just do it!" He turned his back and walked away, unable to watch as Sam was wheeled out of the room and rushed into surgery.

Jim was ready to follow him, but John held him back, "Don't, I know where he is going, he will be back.!"

TBC

_Please let me know, what you think. Good? Bad? Needs changes? Love it as it is? Reviews make my day. Hugs, Vonnie_


	13. Chapter 13

_Thanks to all that reviewed, you really make my day!_

_**Standard Disclaimer applies!**_

Dean was still on automatic when he left the hospital and walked into the parking lot. Only as he neared the Impala, did he stop and looked around, feeling like he just woke up from a night mare. Except this one went on no matter, if he was awake or asleep. Slowly he unlocked the car and slid behind the wheel. He felt at home in the classic Chevy , it was the only constant he had known since his mother died; and he was aware, Sam felt the same way, no matter how much he rebelled against their kind of life in the past.

All of a sudden, he felt very tired, but it wasn't really a physical thing. When Pastor Jim showed up, he started to feel hope again. Hope, that his instincts about Sam giving up on life were wrong, or at least that the priest would be able to pull a miracle out of his sleeve. Now, it was like the world caved in on him and left him with nothing but pain. How was he supposed to go on without his little brother to keep him grounded?

Leaning against the back of the leather seat, he suddenly felt like Sam was right there with him, as scenes from the past few month started to play out right in front in him. He could see him slumped against the passenger side window, finally getting some of the sleep he couldn't get at night, when nightmares plagued him. The times he was brooding, unable to talk about what was going on in that freakish head of his, until big brother Dean finally got through and got him to open up.

And then there were the last few weeks, before Rebekah, when Sammy finally started to live again, getting some of the spark back in his eyes and showed more of the dimpled smile on his face. In particularly, the last time Dean let him choose the music. Thinking about this, actually made Dean grin, because instead of playing one of the songs, that usually seemed to be his style, he had chosen AC/DC's 'Highway to Hell'. It just confirmed, what the older brother suspected for a while, that his baby brother finally started to develop a better taste in music.

For a moment Dean forgot reality and was back on the road. He could hear the engine of the classic car purring like a wild cat after a satisfying meal, as it cut through the velvety darkness of the night, taking them to their next gig.

Without thinking, he reached over and opened the glove box. Rummaging through the tapes for a moment, he couldn't find what he was looking for. Almost frustrated, he closed it again, then leaned over the passenger seat and pulled out the box with the rest of the tapes from underneath. He looked through it, ever so often taking one out to read the label in the dim light of the parking lot lantern. At last he found the one he was looking for. When his hand reached for it, his finger touched an unfamiliar texture, much rougher, yet softer than the plastic tape covers. Grabbing the object it, he pulled it out and starred at it for a second, before he dropped the box back on the seat. Jumping out of the car, he stormed back into the hospital.

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Once again John was sitting in the surgical waiting room, only this time it was Jim Murphy with him instead of Dean. He was tempted to go after his firstborn, yet decided to give him some room. He had a pretty good idea, where he would find the younger hunter, if he needed him.

Jim was silently sitting beside him, his head bowed and his eyes closed. There was no doubt in the oldest Winchester's mind about what the priest was doing. Trying not to disturb his friend, he carefully got up and started to pace the room, unable to sit still any longer.

"Does it actually make you feel better to pace, or does it just make you more tired?" he heard the voice of the priest ask him after a while.

Stopping just for a brief moment, he responded, "It does help a little with the nervousness, if I sit still for too long, I feel like I will explode."

"John." Jim stood up and laid his hand on the bigger man's shoulder, "I know you don't belief in God or the power of prayer, but I do. I have seen prayer work miracles before. I guess, my life would be a total waste, if I wouldn't belief in the God that called me into his service and stands behind that power."

"You know, sometimes I do wonder, maybe you're right and that God of yours exists, but then I think about the way Mary died and how my boys grew up. About all the horrible things happening every day and now what is happening to Sam and because of it to Dean also. How in the world could I belief, there is anything good and all powerful out there? How could he let he let this happen?" John turned away, too upset to face is friend any longer.

"Maybe he doesn't let them happen. Maybe it's the choices we make, how we let evil influence us, that makes it happen. Don't you sometimes wonder, why you are doing all these things, saving people, that are just too ignorant to save themselves? Could it be, that you have been called for a purpose, just like I have?" The man of God paused for a moment, again putting his hand on his friend's shoulder, "After all these things, that happened, I have to trust, that there is a way out for Sam. I refuse to belief that evil is stronger..."

"Dad! Pastor Jim!"

The door burst open and a breathless Dean flew in. Trying to recover from running up three flights of stairs, because he didn't have the patience to wait for the elevator, he held his arm out and dropped his find in the hands of a perplexed John. Then he let himself sink into one of the chairs, giving in to his exhaustion.

The Winchester patriarch moved the item around in his hands, too astonished by what his hands held to trust his eyes. Finally he opened the leather bound cover and looked at the the name written on the first page, "Rebekah Chambers." He read, "You found her diary!"

The silence, that followed John's statement was deafening and lasted for several seconds, which seemed like hours.

Finally, Dean broke through silence, "I can't believe it was right under our noses all this time. It was in the cardboard box underneath my tapes. Sam must have hidden it there."

"Thank God for letting you find it." Jim Murphy gasped, before following John, who had settled into one of the chairs.

By now the oldest Winchester was skipping through the pages of the journal, desperately trying to find what they've been looking for far to long. After a moment, the book slipped out of his shaking hands.

He jumped up and he let out a frustrated curse, "Dammit, Sammy doesn't have time for this!"

Locking eyes with Dean, he read the fear written in the younger man's green orbs. He couldn't let allow himself to break down, not in front of his son. 'Come on John, hold it together.' he silently scolded himself, before putting on one of the best Winchester masks.

"Sorry, lost it there for a moment." He apologized, bending down to retrieve the item off the floor.

Jim was faster though and held the book in his hands before the other man reached all the way down. Before sitting back up, they exchanged a glance, that told John more than any words could have expressed, that his friend understood.

"Let me take a look." The priest said out loud, before starting to file through the journal. It took him only a moment to find something interesting, "I think, that might be it."

Quietly reading through the page, he felt two sets of eyes staring at him in anticipation. He knew how much depended on this, it was not just the sanity of one of his best friends, but also the life's of that friend's sons. At last he looked up.

"I'm certain this is the counter spell you looked for."

"So can we use it right now?" Dean couldn't sit any longer, excitedly jumping around like a little boy at Christmas.

Jim hated to dampen his spirits, but knew he had no choice, "Dean, It doesn't work like this. We have to actually be with Sam and put our hands on him, while we recite the counter spell."

"But what, if...?" The young hunter was too afraid to finish the sentence.

"No, Dean, it's not gonna happen, Sam is going to pull through the surgery, we are going to use the counter spell and he is going to be fine." John's voice was steady and strong, very much opposite to the way he actually felt, "Rebekah is not going to win."

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It took another two hours before Dr. Gonzales and Dr. Killjohn joined the three men in the waiting room. Both of them looked tired and wore somber expressions on their faces.

"How did my son make it through the surgery?" John hurried to asked. Also he knew better, he somehow hoped by wording his question this way, he would prevent the answer to be that Sam had not survived.

The Hispanic doctor looked at each of the three men like she was trying to evaluate their state of mind, pausing just a moment longer on Dean than on the other two.

"It was touch and go!" She finally confessed, "There was a second tear in his liver, that we missed during the initial surgery, very likely because of the hurry with which we had to close him. It wasn't as bad as the other one, but bad enough and very likely tore further due to the pressure on it. We made sure we didn't miss anything this time."

The sigh of relief coming from the three men, made Dr. Gonzales flinch and she looked at her partner for assist. The tall doctor stepped forward, visibly uncomfortable with his new role. As he started to speak, his voice sounded much softer than during their first meeting.

"Sam lost an incredible amount of blood before and during surgery. We kept infusing him but he lost it faster than we could pump the blood into him. By the time we finally repaired the damage to his liver, his heart stopped. It took us way too long to bring him back and when we finally did, we had difficulty stabilizing him."

Dr. Killjohn interrupted himself to take a deep breath before he laid the full truth on the men in front of him. Although his attitude was mostly one of superiority, he did have another side to him, one which came through only on very rare occasions and when he most needed it, one of empathy. Now he bit his lip, as he saw the brother and father of his patient stand before him and he understood, why Maria bailed out on telling them the truth.

"There is no easy way to tell you this. Sam has been through a lot and it is really surprising. he has been holding on for this long, but now his body has reached the point, where it just is too tired to continue. His system is failing and there is nothing more we can do."

The silence that followed the last statement was laying heavy in the room. There were just no words of comfort that would be enough at this point. Jim Murphy felt helpless, as he watched John's face turn into a mask of stone and Dean's eyes shine with unshed tears as he pressed his lips together to prevent them from quivering. For once, he could almost understand, why neither of them believed in a higher power that was good. Yet, he still refused to give up on his employer, there had to be hope somewhere in this hopelessness.

"Can we see my nephew now, please!" It was a plead, rather than a question.

"Sure, he should be settled back in his room by now!" Maria Gonzales finally found her voice again.

The priest turned to his friends and wordlessly guided them out of the room. If Sam really was going to die, he was not going to be alone.

TBC

_Okay, this is a little shorter, but I thought this was the best way to break. Hope you will let me know what you think. Hugs, Vonnie_


	14. Chapter 14

_Thanks for your awesome reviews, you are still the greatest!_

**Standard Disclaimer applies, the boys don't belong to me!**

Entering Sam's ICU room, the three men watched one of the nurses injecting something into Sam's IV line with a slight feeling of anxiety. Neither of them could wait for her to leave, so they could start the counter spell.

Each of them was well aware, that time was of the essence, because every minute brought the youngest Winchester closer to death and gave the Chamber's Witch more power.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, but in reality had been only a few minutes, the young woman gave them a smile and left. John closed the blinds to the observation windows towards the hallway, before he locked the door, making sure no one would be able to interrupt them. Then the three of them gathered around the bed, Dean and John on either side, the priest at the foot of it.

"Let's join hands and recant the protection spell first. We have to make sure Rebekah can't get to us while we recite the spell! And remember, if she appears, you can't look at her, only then will the protection work." Pastor Jim instructed his friends.

Together they spoke the Latin words and Jim added a prayer after they finished. Lifting his head, he looked at Dean, who was keeping the journal in his jacket.

"Open the book to the page with the spell and lay it down on the bed, so all of us can read it. Some of these words are really difficult to pronounce, it looks like a mixture of Galic and and an old Akkadian language, just do your best and what ever happens, don't stop. Remember, she can't get to us.' The man of God reminded them.

Slowly and with as much clarity as possible, they started to recite the words before them. After getting through the first few sentences, a rumble was becoming audible and the bed and furniture started to shake. At the same time Rebekah Chambers appeared in the far corner of the room, her face no longer beautiful, but disfigured by hate and rage. The screech coming from her mouth was truly supernatural, because nothing that was of this world could ever make a noise like this. It was beyond any description and it took all the three men had, not to interrupt there reading and put there hands to their ears.

It was very obvious, that the witch was unable to leave the corner she was standing in, yet this didn't keep her from throwing every bit of her power into trying to prevent the men from finishing what they started. The lights in the room started to flicker and the alarms on the monitors went off for a moment, before the room was plunged into complete darkness.

Both Winchester men drew their flashlights out of their pockets and turning them on, pointed them towards the journal on the bed before continuing to read. This took only a second, but cost all the concentration they had, because both of them instinctively wanted to check on their youngest. Yet they knew, for Sam to even have a chance to live, they would have to complete the spell as fast as possible.

The shaking continued to increase in strength and it became more difficult to not to be taken off balance, yet somehow they managed. The IV pole behind the bed toppled over and at the same time the wall shelve, holding the monitors, broke off it's brackets and with a loud crash send the instruments to the floor. There was banging on the door, as several voices could be heard asking to be let in and what was going on.

The witch was still standing in the corner, her arms lifted high and speaking words that were likely the same mixture of Galic and Akkadian, as the counter spell. Her rage was only increasing, as she desperately attempted to stop the men from completing the ritual. Just as they spoke the last words, the bed seemed to be torn apart, as it bucked up like a wild horse, before collapsing into itself, tossing Sam's unconscious body into his brother and both of them onto the hitting the wall behind them.

If this would have happened any sooner, it would have ended the reciting of the spell instantly, yet now it was too late and the loud "Damn you!" from the corner ended in a high pitched scream, before the two older men watched in astonishment as Rebekah Chambers exploded into flames and within seconds nothing but a few puffs of smoke and the destruction in the room were left as reminders,that she ever existed. That and the broken body of Sam, now lying on top of an also unconscious Dean.

Now that she was gone, he lights in the room came back on and the one monitor, still connected to the outlet, started blaring out it's alarm.

Shaking off the exhaustion and terror, both men bend down to check on their two youngest. Dean had slid down the wall, smears of blood visible, where his head connected with the white paint. He still was out, but his breathing was even and much to John's relief, his pulse strong and regular. Sam was a mess though. His PICC line had been torn out and was lying beside him, still connected to the infusion pump. The monitor patches were disconnected and so was the ventilator. At least the endotracheal tube hadn't been torn out, but John realized quickly, that it really didn't matter anymore. Sam wasn't breathing and his heart had stopped.

Lifting the limp body of his youngest off Dean, he cradled him in his arms, burying his face in the dark mop of hair. He allowed the tears to run down his face and wet the dark tresses, for once not caring who saw his weakness. They might have saved Sam from Rebekah, but they had been to late to save his life. Through a veil of tears his gaze fell onto his eldest, thankful for the oblivion the younger man found in unconsciousness. Soon enough he would have to face the fact, that his brother was dead.

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Jim Murphy felt the despair radiating off his friend within the deepest cores of his heart. His mind was almost blank as he crouched beside the tall man and watched him say good bye to his son. This wasn't supposed to happen. They destroyed the witch and now Sam was supposed to be alright. Well maybe not right away, after all, the injuries were very real, but eventually they were going to heal. Instead, he watches the father rock his dead younger son, while his eyes, void of any hope, stared at his older boy. This just wasn't right. For the first time in his life as a priest, Jim let out an angry scream at God.

"How can you break this family like this? Haven't they been through enough already?" He wanted to wrap his arms around the three men, that had made such a difference in his life and give in to his own grief, yet he knew it was time to listen to the voices on the other side of the door and let help in. He couldn't do any more for Sam, but Dean needed treatment and he could at least make sure, he would get it.

"What in the world happened here?" Dr. Killjohn was the first one to push into the room after the priest unlocked the door.

"I'll explain later, would you just check on Dean?" he said before he knelt down beside John again, unwilling to waste his time with explanations, that no one would belief anyway.

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John Winchester was still holding on to his youngest, while Dr. Killjohn assessed Dean. Lifting his lids to shine a light into his eyes, he called out instruction to lift the young man onto a gurney and move him into the treatment room at on the same floor.

"Dean is going to be okay, Mr. Winchester. He might have a concussion, so I'm going to send him for a CT after I patched up his head wound, just to make sure." He could see the father didn't hear him, as he was too absorbed in his grief. Nodding at the priest, he followed his patient, leaving it to Dr. Gonzales and Jim Murphy to deal with the oldest Winchester.

"John, why don't you let the doctor take a look at Sam." The priest tried to coach his friend. Although he was well aware, there would be nothing that could be done for the young hunter, he felt the need to get the other man to do anything but to give in to his despair. He never seen John like this and it scared him.

The Winchester patriarch looked up for a moment and shook his head, "No, she can check Sammy right here. I can't let him go."

"John, he is gone." Jim's eyes shone with unshed tears.

"Don't you think I know that?" The anger in his voice was not to miss, "Do you know I hardly ever held him, when he was alive? I let my older son raise my younger child, because I was too caught up in trying to find the demon that murdered my wife. My boys needed me and I failed them. Now Sammy is dead and Dean is going to follow him."

The man of God glanced at Dr. Gonzales, very easily reading the confusion and fear in her eyes. There was no way she was going to do anything at this time and he couldn't even blame her for it. The events of the last half hour had to have been beyond frightening to her and any of the other staff members of the unit. Gently he put his hand on her arm and said,

"I know strange things have happened and I can't explain them, but I promise you, nothing is going to hurt you!"

Reluctantly she finally knelt down and letting her sense of duty take over, she pulled the stethoscope out of her pocket. Her hands were shaking, yet the moment she looked in the face of the distressed father, her compassion kicked in.

"Please, let me check on Sam, just for a moment, all you have to do is move your arm a little bit." She didn't really expect any reaction, so she was surprised, when he moved the limb to the side.

Carefully she moved the instrument toward the slack body of her patient, knowing that once again she would do her duty and pronounce a much too young life lost. Reluctantly, she pressed the diaphragm down on the still chest, avoiding eye contact with John. After a moment she adjusted the position, as confusion became visible on her face.

"I need the crash cart in here, stat!" she screamed, "And a gurney!"

The next few minutes seemed like total chaos, as her orders were being followed. Sam's lax body was ripped out of his father's arm and lifted upon a gurney, while someone else pushed a cart into the room.

The oldest Winchester looked up, unable to fully comprehend what was going on. Finally he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"John, we need to move, let them work on Sam." Jim Murphy wasn't quite sure what to say to his friend, so he just pulled him up to a standing positon.

"Work...on...Sam?" John almost felt like waking up from a nightmare, only he knew it was not over yet.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, he was back to being the man Jim Murphy new for years.

"I'm not leaving here until I know my son is alright!"

"They need all the room they can get, John. Why don't we check and see how Dean is doing, he needs you too." The priest took on his most convincing voice, praying it would help.

John looked at the doctor and nurses trying to help Sam, then back at his old friend. Finally he agreed, even though he wanted nothing more than to stay right here, he also understood, that the team needed the space to give their best. Without saying another word, he left, walking down the hall to find the treatment room, where his eldest had been taken.

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Dr. Killjohn finished putting the last stitch into his patients head. He was glad the wound had turned out less severe than he initially suspected. His patient started to move when he began to suture the laceration, letting him know, he was awake. Yet he held still without so much as twitching until the doctor was finished. Now he opened his eyes and looked up at the physician.

"How is Sam?"

Looking into the dark green eyes of the younger man, the doctor wasn't sure how to answer the question. How was he going to tell him, his brother was dead?

Just then there was a loud knock and before he could answer it, the door flew open, permitting entrance to John and Pastor Jim. Dr. Killjohn let out a relieved breath, knowing he had gotten off easy. Now the older men would be the one's giving the bad news to his patient.

"Dad?" Dean was trying to roll onto his back, surprised by the appearance of his father and feeling not just a little bit uneasy.

"Hey, how is your head?" John was glad to see his eldest awake and very obviously aware of his surroundings. He also realized by the look in the kids eyes, what his son was thinking, "Sam is alive, at least for now."

His voice was serious but also hopeful. He was not going to allow himself to break down again.

"What happened?" Dean was not satisfied with the answer his father gave him.

"We thought Sam was dead until Dr. Gonzales checked him and noticed his heart was still beating. They are trying to stabilize him now." Jim Murphy answered, knowing his friend was not going to tell the younger hunter the full truth. Although, he too would like to spare Dean from any more distress, he knew Sam could still die and it would be even worse, if the older brother wasn't aware of the seriousness of the situation.

"Would you please excuse me, I better go and assist my partner." Dr. Killjohn interjected, then turned at the nurse, who assisted him with the sutures, "Linda, would you please clean the blood out of Deans hair. I think the CT can wait until we know how his brother is doing."

John gave the doctor a grateful look, silently thanking him for his understanding, before he concentrated his attention back on his older son again.

"Dean, you have to belief that Sammy is going to be okay." John didn't need to hear the young hunter speak the question out loud, knowing him well enough to know, what was on his mind, "Rebekah is gone, she is not keeping him down anymore."

"What if it is too late? If he is just too weak to fight anymore?"

There was a pregnant silence in the room, yet only for a split second, before John determinedly shook his head.

"No, Dean, don't think like that. Sam's heart stopped, he was already dead and he fought his way back. Dean, he came back without help, when we all had given up on him." He let his head hang for a moment, "I'm ashamed to say this, but I thought he was gone. I should have known better."

Jim Murphy, who had silently listened, now had to smile, because there was a small flame starting to appear in the younger Winchester's eyes. A flame, that very quickly turned into a burning inferno. The fight was back on and Dean was ready to lead it.

TBC

_Akkadian – language spoken in Babylon, it was a Semitic language and the first diplomatic language used_

_Okay, so maybe you think John was out of character, but I thought after all he has been through – loosing Mary, loosing life as he knew it to hunting - now he lost Sam and knows he will loose Dean also. That can make a guy break and act out of character. Push the review button and let me know, what you think. Hugs, Vonnie_


	15. Chapter 15

_Sorry, it took me a little longer to get this part up. Hope you will like it though. Thanks for all of you, who have been sticking with me._

**Standard disclaimer applies, like always!**

Waiting in the treatment room for what seemed like forever, felt like torture. Neither Dean nor John had any patience left and even Pastor Jim was pacing the floor this time. None of them spoke and it left an almost eerie silence hanging in the room.

When the door finally opened and Dr. Killjohn entered, he was almost pushed back out into the hall way again, as three anxious men stormed toward him. Putting his hands out in defense, he put a smile on, letting them know that things were alright before he started to speak.

"Whoa, please let me breathe, otherwise I can't give you the news." Seeing that his attackers backed off, although only slightly, he continued, "We were able to stabilize Sam, at least for now. I know, you want to see him, so why don't you go and see him and I..."

Dean was up and out the door before John or Jim Murphy could stop him. He ran down the hallway and disappeared into Sam's room in a flash. The older Winchester sent a worried look after him, before he and the other men followed him.

"Don't worry." The surgeon calmed him, "I'm sure he is going to be alright, although I still want that scan done, just to have it black on white."

As they entered the ICU room, Dean was already sitting beside his brother and held on to Sam's hand, while Dr. Gonzales was pulling the covers back over his chest after rechecking his lungs. She stepped back now, giving the two older men access to her patient. After watching them quietly for a few minutes, she spoke up.

"I really can't explain what happened here, because by all rights, Sam should be dead, but as you see, he isn't. He is taking a few breaths every minute, not enough to maintain a decent blood oxygenation, but it was obviously enough to keep him going for a while. I adjusted the vent settings, so that the vent will take over the additional breaths he needs to get enough air. His blood pressure is also up a few points and his heart rate has gone down to a slightly slower rate, making it pump much more effectively. But I have to warn you, he is far from stable and we still don't know, if he is going to come out of this without any damage to his brain or other organs" She added, trying to prevent the small group from setting themselves up for major disappointment.

"You don't know Sam!" Dean spoke with determination, "My brother is a fighter, he is going to come out of this with flying colors."

The Hispanic doctor nodded at her partner, then turned back to the older brother, "You could be right, although for a while it looked like he really didn't have any will to live. Whatever happened here, it seemed to have made a big difference in his attitude."

John was unsure what to say, but he knew, he owed both physicians an answer. After a moment he finally started.

"About what happened in here, I guess, I should explain..."

"Don't!" It was Dr. Killjohn, who interrupted him this time, "Maria and I decided, we really don't want to know. We will have Sam moved to the room across the hall, it is almost identical to this one. Hopefully that will be the last move, because otherwise administration might be on our tails."

He grinned and John hurried to assure him, that there would be no further property damage.

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So the vigil began began once again, as the men took their places at Sam's side. Although all of them were persistent in staying with the youngest Winchester, it was Dean, who absolutely refused to leave his brother. But it wasn't with the despair of the past few days anymore, now it was more of a strong determination of giving Sam all the help he needed to fight his way back. Only after John and Jim Murphy threatened him with bodily harm, did he finally conceit and slept for a few hours on the couch in the room. Getting him out to eat was impossible though and both older men had finally given up, deciding it would be easier to supply his need for nourishment right here.

John still was looking with worry upon both of his boys, the memory of holding a dead Sam too vivid in his mind. There was no doubt in his mind that loosing one would mean loosing the other also. So although carefully optimistic, he was not convinced yet, that Sam was going to survive.

And then there was Jim Murphy, who continued to leave his congregation in the hands of his assistant and silently supported his friends. He spend a lot of time in the background, praying and finding strength in the word of God. And although he wanted to give them the same comfort, he stayed quiet, knowing, that neither man would appreciate the effort. Instead he put his hands on the unconscious Winchester, praying and blessing him in the knowledge, that the young man never totally lost the faith of his childhood, still believing in an almighty God, even though he did have to go through way too many tragedies in his short life.

Aside from that, he also picked up the journal, determined to find out more about Rebekah Chambers and her agenda. He spent several hours engrossed into the writings, realizing there was more to this than either of the Winchesters knew.

For a while he contemplated letting them in on his new found knowledge, yet after seriously thinking about it, he decided to wait. Both men had enough on their hands right now, because even though Sam was slowly improving, things were still on shaky ground for him and could go down hill at any time.

This much was clear from the entries, the witch was no longer a threat, the counter spell not only having destroyed her power over Sam, but also finally having banished her to where she belonged – to hell. At this point the truth about what she really had in mind, would only shake the two hunters up further and possibly even bring out false feeling of guilt.

So he hid the book in his coat, glad that both, John and Dean were way to involved with their worry for the youngest member of their family, to notice he had studied the journal or even care what had happened to it.

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Dean stretched slowly, trying to get the kinks out of his back and neck after spending the last three hours asleep on the chair beside Sam's bed. Looking over to the couch, he found his father sleeping there, his face covered by his left arm to keep the daylight from disturbing him, while his right disappeared inside his coat. The younger hunter grinned, knowing exactly, if he would sneak up on the sleeping man now, the hand would come shooting out, holding a loaded weapon. It was the life of the hunter, that taught him to always be prepared and he had passed this knowledge on to both of his sons.

Sitting back down, he watched his younger sibling. It seemed like these had been the longest three days in his life. Although both doctors assured them, that Sam's condition was improving, there was no visible sign of it on the outside. Yes, his vital signs hadn't been fluctuating, but his blood pressure was still low and the ventilator was still doing most of the breathing for him. The way too pale features, still marred by bruises, continued to be without any sign of animation. Dean actually found himself missing the usual constant restlessness of Sam's sleep, although it had been the reason for countless sleepless nights for him. Yet right now he would give anything to see those hazel eyes open or hear one of the famous Sammy whines.

He continued to hold on to his positive attitude, yet the longer he watched his little brother lying in this bed, the more difficult it got. He knew John had an even tougher time, he could see it in his eyes. Even though the older man was trying to hide it from him, Dean had learned a long time ago, how to read his father. He supposed, it had a lot to do with the past differences between Sam and their dad, that led the older man to feel like he would never get a chance to make things up to his youngest. Maybe even going so far, that he felt like he didn't deserve that chance.

Dean took a deep breath, shaking the moment of weakness off, like a dog would shake water off his fur.

Seeing the older man stir, he left Sam's side for the first time in days without having been made to do so.

"Dad, we need to talk!" He waited for the hunter to sit up before moving down to his side and looking him into the eyes, "I know, you feel, like you need to make things up to Sam and it tears you up, because you think it's to late now and you will never even be able to try."

John shook his head, trying to deny the accusation, before opening his mouth to talk. His oldest lifted his hand and continued before he could start,though, "Don't deny it, please. I know you well enough."

For a moment he stopped, asking himself, why he suddenly felt like he was the father and John the son. It just didn't seem right, yet, he already started and he wasn't about to leave things unfinished.

"You know that Sammy loves you, don't you? He doesn't want you to make things up to him. All he wants is for you to accept him."

"But I do." The other man protested, "I accept him for who he is, because he his my son, just like you are."

"Then you need to tell him, dad." Dean told him.

"I never had to tell you!"

"I'm not Sam."

There was silence between the two of them, as the words slowly started to sink in. After a moment, the older Winchester sighed.

"You're right, I guess, that was always my mistake, I expected your brother to be like you and although I really learned to accept him, I still haven't been able to treat him the way I should have. And I just don't know what to do."

Dean smiled, "You know, why don't you just tell him now. I'm sure, on some level he is able to hear you. Hey, if nothing else, at least you practiced and know how to do it right, when Sammy will be awake. I even give you some privacy. I'll go get something to eat, want something?"

"Sure, just bring me something!" John replied, while slowly standing up and walking over to his youngest. He stood for a moment, unsure what to do. The closing of the door pulled him out of his reverie and he sat down, reaching out to pick up his son's slack hand. After several minutes of just listening of the whooshing sound of the ventilator and watching the corresponding rising of Sam's chest, he scrubbed his free hand over his face.

"Your brother thinks, it's time for me to talk to you." For a moment he didn't know how to go on and pushed his hand through his thick salt and pepper hair. Finally he continued, I'm really not good at this talking thing, but for all it's worth, I want you to know, I'm sorry. Sam, I should have said it a long time ago, I don't want you to be different. I love you, and I accept you for who you are. I know, we have butted heads a lot, but come to think of it, so did my old man and I, when I grew up. I think we were too much alike." He paused and a smile appeared on his face, "I know, you probably don't want to hear this, but maybe that's what's our problem also. You and I, we are too much like each other, that and the part of you, that reminds me so much of your mom, sometimes it hurts."

Falling quiet, he suddenly realized, it wasn't as difficult as he thought to put his thoughts into words. Granted, it would be much tougher as soon as Sam was awake, but his youngest son deserved it and now that he did it once, he could do it again.

Now that he was no longer talking, he enjoyed the silence of the room and the close proximity of his son. He couldn't belief, that it had to come to this, for him to spent time with Sam without the two of them arguing. It seemed, like something changed, and for a moment, he had to contemplate, what it was, before the light went on. All reservations he had about Sam's recovery were gone now. There was no indication of any alteration in the younger man's condition, yet John no longer had any doubts, that he would recover.

"Dean you sneaky bastard!" the oldest Winchester grinned, he couldn't belief the wisdom his oldest had, it went way beyond his age. Yet, if confronted with it, he would deny it, would pretend he had no idea, what anyone was talking about and make some snarky remark.

How in the world did he figure out, what was going on with his father, if the older man himself didn't know, was beyond John. Yet he did it and not just that, he also knew exactly what John needed to do to let go of his fear and doubt.

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Deep in thought, the oldest Winchester lost track of time. He looked up at the sound of the door and found Dean slipping back into the room, balancing a bag with food and two drinks in his right arm, while closing the door with his left. John jumped up, taking the drinks from him, just in time before they dropped to the floor.

"Thanks, that was close." Dean walked over to the bed to check on his brother, before setting the back on the over the bed table, "I got Chinese, thought it was time for something other then pizza and burgers."

John grinned, "You've been around your brother too much, I thought burgers and pizza was all you ever ate!"

"Yeah well, some of Sam's eating habits are not that bad, but I never could eat as much rabbit food as he does. Boy, you should see that boy, sometimes I'm amazed he hasn't turned into a bunny himself." The older boy took one of the boxes from the bag and opened it, "What do you want, Cashew Chicken or Twice Cooked Pork? I did bring some Sweet and Sour Chicken also, but I know, that's Jim's favorite. I would think, he should be back soon, that's why I brought him something."

"Where is Jim anyway?" John asked, missing the priest for the first time.

"He left a note, that he went down to the chapel about two hours ago. Don't know what he would do there for so long."

"Spend time with his God!" the voice came from behind him, making a startled Dean jump up and almost drop his food.

"Whoa, don't sneak up on people like that, you could give them a heart attack." John smiled at his friend.

"If those people wouldn't talk about me, being totally oblivious to anything else, then I couldn't sneak up on them." He laughed, grabbing the bag from the table and looking into it, "I guess, I forgive you, after all, you brought me my favorite."

Taking the box out, he started to enjoy his food, paying no further mind to the two other men.

Did you really spend two hours praying?" Although his friend was a priest, John had a difficult time imagining anyone could waste this much time on talking to someone that might not even exist.

"You know John, sometimes I spend a whole night in prayer and meditation. I also know very well, that you think it's a waste of time, but that's your opinion and not mine. I belief, that my prayers were heard." His eyes slid over to the bed with the youngest Winchester and suddenly a smile appeared on his face, "And I think, we just received an answer to my prayers."

Dean and John followed his line of vision and this time the older son really dropped his food. Only now he didn't care, because he was too fixated on those hazel orbs, that appeared under the slightly lifted lids. Still glazed over and looking confused, they darted around the room, until they came to rest on his green ones. Although his features remained slack, Sam's eyes lit up with what unmistakeably was a smile and it let Dean know beyond the shadow of a doubt, that his brother recognized him.

TBC

_Hope you are still sticking with me. I know this chapter didn't have a lot going on and I almost errased it instead of posting, but then I decided I take the risk. I hope it's not too bad. Let me know_! Hugs, Vonnie


	16. Chapter 16

_Thank you for your wonderful and overwhelming reviews to the last chapter. It helped me through a lot of self doubt. Couldn't do it without you!_

The peaceful darkness of oblivion, which he was floating in, was slowly invaded by voices. At first they were more like white noise, being there, not really disturbing him and in a way even comforting. After a while so, they became louder and with that more annoying, like a fly you shooed away, only to have it land on you again and again and again...

Finally he decided, he needed to take a look at what or who was causing the intrusion, yet opening his eyes proofed more difficult than he expected. For some reason his lids were heavier than lead and besides that, seemed glued down. It took all his strength - and he never before knew it required any, always taking the motion for granted - to lift them onto half-mast. Glancing around the room, things appeared out of focus and distorted. Two figures came into his few, one of whom was talking, and although he couldn't quite make them out, they seemed familiar. Yet it wasn't until his eyes hit a third, that his eyes stopped. Even with his vision blurry and his thoughts hazy, he latched on to the man in front of him. His eyes lit up with recognition, because there was no doubt, who he was.

For a moment Sam enjoyed the figure of his brother getting sharper, as his vision cleared. Making eye contact, he found his smile reflected in his older sibling's eyes. For some reason he felt incredibly weak and unsure, if he would be able to call out for Dean, he decided to go with a whisper, sure he would be heard, no matter how voiceless it would be. And for the first time he noticed something was obstructing his airway, making it impossible for him to speak or even breath on his own. Overwhelmed by anxiety, he attempted to breathe and found himself unable to get air into his lungs. He struggled to sit up, but found it also impossible, as pain ripped through him and he felt like he was being torn apart. The lack of oxygen increased his confusion and fear and made him struggle even more, fighting a battle he was sure to loose.

And suddenly he felt two calloused hands holding his face and a reassuring voice talking to him, "I've got you Sammy, you have to settle down. You are on a ventilator. Just relax and let the machine breath for you."

Listening to Dean's calming words, Sam tried to do as instructed but found the intense pain made it difficult to concentrate on the rhythm of the vent. Obviously his brother realized what the problem was and continued to hold on to him.

"Sammy, look at me!" He instructed with gentle insistence, repeating the command until he had his brothers attention, "I will breath with you, just do exactly what I do."

Pastor Jim and John had been standing bye ever since Sam first opened his eyes. Although the father's immediate instinct had been to rush to his youngest son's side, he held himself back, knowing Sam would need his brother more than him. Yet this wasn't the only reason, he also was well aware, he needed to allow Dean to provide the reassurance and care for his sibling, because it was what the older brother always had done for Sam. So he continued to watch, while Jim Murphy hit the call button to alert the staff.

By the time Dr. Gonzales and one of the nurses entered the room, Sam had calmed down and was breathing with the vent again. Both women caught a last glint of the hazel eyes before they drooped again and the young man relaxed into the touch of his brother, as he let sleep claim him. The two medical professionals felt the change in the atmosphere, now that their patient had regained consciousness for at least a short time. Yet it was more than that, there was something curious, yet very comforting hanging in the air, like something had been reconnected, something that was lost for way too long. And for a moment the nurse and doctor looked at each other, feeling strangely like intruders in their own unit.

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Dean looked at the Hispanic physician with trepidations, well aware, that she would want his place at his brothers side to assess the younger man's condition. After just gaining his brother back, he was not ready yet to let anyone but himself be by Sam's side. He threw the doctor as warning look, challenging her to try and make him give up his spot.

Slightly intimidated, yet anxious to make sure her patient was doing okay, Dr. Gonzales took a small step back. Nervously, she looked to her nurse, then over to the two older men, hoping to receive help from on of them. It was John Winchester, who finally heeded her wordless request, as he put a hand on his oldest son's shoulder.

"Dean, you need to let the doctor do her job, she has to check Sam out!" The older man said in a calming voice.

Reluctantly Dean moved backwards, never taking his eyes off his sleeping brother. Being the smart woman she was, Dr. Gonzales moved towards the bed from the other side, giving the older brother the opportunity to observe everything she was doing. She started her assessment, letting the the stethoscope glide over Sam's chest, before she gently probed his abdomen, all the while looking for a reaction from her patient. She was finally rewarded, when she slid his left lid open and pointed her pen light at him.

Sam's head moved to the side and his eyes crunched shut as he once again struggled against the ventilator. Dean was by his side before the pain hit him, holding him and coaching him to open his eyes. When the hazel eyes appeared, this time wide open and full of fear, his voice stayed steady and calm.

"Sammy, it's going to be alright, remember, we did this before." He paused for just a moment, looking for acknowledgement in his brother's eyes. When he found it, he continued, "Okay, now breath with me. In..., out..., you're doing great!"

He continued to encourage the younger man and it took only moments before Sam was back in rhythm with the vent. The doctor and nurse watched in astonishment and it became clear to them, that Dean Winchester was going to be an invaluable assess in their next course of action.

"Dean, would you tell your brother, we are going to take the tube out. His lungs are clear and I think he will be fine with just some oxygen to help him."

"Did you hear that, kiddo, they are going to get rid of the tube for you." Seeing the almost invisible nod, he turned to the doctor, "So how can I help?"

"Hold his head and reassure him, while I pull the tube."

She took an empty syringe and connected it to a line attached to the endotracheal tube. After she pulled the plunger back, she spoke to her patient, "Okay Sam, you need to breath in and then let the air out through your mouth. While you do that, I will pull the tube out. You're ready?"

Unsure, if she had been heard, she looked at the older brother, slightly surprised, when he gave her a heads up.

"I've got you Sammy!" he promised, as the younger hunter took a breath, then let it out.

The fire that started in his throat as the tube was pulled out ended in a cough, that brought back all the pain with a vengeance. Unable to stop the cough and unable to get away from the pain, tears started running down Sam's face.

Dean gave the doc a worried look, but found to his relief, that she was prepared and already injected pain medication into his brothers IV line. Within a seconds Sam felt the pain lessen and he relaxed slightly as he felt a spoon pushed up against his lips.

"Here are some ice chips, that will help." He heard his brother's voice as the cooling relief slid into his mouth. It was like heaven, the ice instantly soothing the fire and bringing it down to a tolerable simmer, as the cough seized at the same time. Tiredness overtook him once again and his eyes started to droop, but this time he refused to give in, because there was something he needed to do.

"Thanks, Dean."

Although his voice was hoarse and his words were hardly above a whisper, he sounded clear as a bell to the older hunter. Feeling the understanding squeeze of the other's hand, Sam finally let the medication do it's job and sank back into the comforting darkness.

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After giving them some time alone with Sam, Dr. Gonzales returned. Now that her patient was breathing on his own and his condition was almost stable, she brought up the issue of further surgeries. Although the small family had known, that this would happen eventually, they still were slightly taken aback, having hoped it could be put off for a while longer.

"He is just woke up, can't you wait a few more days?" John knew, without looking at his son, he was speaking for Dean also.

The seriousness on the doctor's face told him immediately, that he wouldn't like the answer, "I really wish we could, but we almost waited too long already. The multiple bone splinters in his right leg need to be taken care off, before they cause more problems. There is a lot of bone and tissue damage and I'm afraid, he might develop osteomyelitis, an infection in the bone. He really doesn't need an infection of any kind at this point, but bone infections are extremely difficult to treat and there have been times when the only thing left, was to amputate the limb."

Looking at the men before her, she knew before either of them responded, that the decision was already made.

This time it was Dean, who spoke, "So when do you want to do it?"

"Dr. Burnett would like to get him in first thing tomorrow morning. He is out of town right now, but is going to be back tonight." She paused, taking a breath and again became very serious, "You know, that there are always risks involved. Sam is still very fragile and any kind of surgery could compromise his recovery. Yet his changes are much better with the surgery then without."

Father and son exchanged glances, then looked at Pastor Jim. The priest gave them a nod, before saying, "Sometimes it is difficult to make the right decision. Maybe you need to think about what Sam would want."

"There is nothing further to think about," Dean's voice was steady, when he continued, "Sam wouldn't want to live without his leg, so the only thing to do is to prevent this from happening."

John nodded but stayed quiet. There was nothing for him to add. Although he knew as well as his older son what his younger boy wanted, it was up to Dean to make this decision. He had more of a right to do it, than he did. Yet he was sure to back him up and make sure, whatever happened, his firstborn wouldn't blame himself.

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Dean was once again sitting with his brother, waiting more or less patiently for the younger man to wake up. John and Pastor Jim were in quiet conversation, to quiet for him to understand the words, and to be honest, he wasn't really interested in anything other than getting to see his baby brother's hazel orbs again. It still felt more like a dream than an actual event to him, that Sam woke up and no longer needed assist with breathing. Well, that was unless you counted an oxygen tube assist with breathing. Which it really was, but...

His thoughts trailed off, as tiredness finally overwhelmed him and his eyes slipped closed and his head slowly sank forward until it came to rest on his left arm, which was already lying on his brothers bed. His right arm continued to lie beside him, holding on to Sam's left.

John couldn't help but smile as he looked at his boys. Now, that he knew Sam was getting better, and with that there was no longer the danger lurking of loosing Dean also, he had a feeling of contentment in him, when he looked at the two of them. These were his sons, his life.

His firstborn, Dean, given to him by Mary on a frosty late January morning. Bright, smarter than he gave himself credit for, he was a fast learner, thinking on his feet and always there, when you needed him. He was a great soldier and a natural leader. He was funny, many times to the point of being an annoying smart ass, but he usually had a point. Chiseled features, bright green eyes, a killer smile and charm that could get him any woman he wanted and many he didn't. And then there was the side of him, that was serious and mostly hidden deep inside, behind the facade of smart comments and confident stature.

On the other side was his youngest, Sam, the legacy Mary left him. The boy, he and Dean lived for. The one that always loved school, managed to be a straight A student, no matter how short they stayed in a town. Who was stubborn and argumentative and who despised hunting. Who always managed to maintain a piece of his innocent, no matter how old he got. The one, whose hazel eyes could have this puppy dog look, that would get whatever he wanted without even trying. Whose good looks were in the uniqueness and changeability of his features and managed to make girls as well as older women eat out of his hands, and who still felt his older brother was the better looking one. He was the thinker, the emotional, the brooding one.

Different in so many ways, the two of them made an awesome team, maybe because they were so different, or maybe because they really weren't. They would die for one another and for anyone they loved or just happened to need their help.

"John, are you still in there?" A hand was waved in front of him and he suddenly remembered, that he had been talking to Jim Murphy.

"Sorry, guess, I got a little distracted."

"Yeah, that you did, and I would say it was more than just a little. I have been trying to get your attention for quite some time." The priest smiled, "But I think, it's understandable. Those sons of yours a quite a pair."

"I never will earn a medal for being father of the year, but no matter what, I couldn't wish for my boys to be any better. I'm really proud of them. Just don't tell them, that would break my tough image."

"You know, sometimes it's not so bad to change that image just a little."

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Sam felt the slight pressure of another hand on his, as his awareness returned. Instinctively, he knew it was that of his brother. Taking comfort in the touch, he slowly opened his eyes, giving himself tine to adjust to the artificial light illuminating the room. He turned his head to the side, catching a glimpse of his sleeping sibling, but regretted the move instantly as pain stabbed through his head. Holding back a moan in order to not disturb the older man, he stayed perfectly still and just watched the relaxed features.

His mind felt sluggish and slightly clouded, making it difficult to think. He had no idea, how he got here and even where here was. All he knew was, that it hurt, when he moved and more importantly, that Dean was here. His brother would answer all his questions when he woke up.

Like on command the older Winchester sibling started to steer, his keen hunter senses alerted by the feeling of being watched. Opening his eyes, he met the ones of his kid brother, this time, although still a little hazy looking, wide open and watching him with awareness. Pushing himself up to a sitting position, he smiled at the younger man.

"Hey sleepy head, I see you decided to join the world of the living," He teased lightly.

"What happened?" Sam's voice sounded painfully scratchy and weak, making the other hunter wince.

He grabbed the cup with ice chips from the table, glad to discover, not all of it had melted yet. Using the spoon to fish several chips out of it, he offered it to his brother, who opened his mouth without hesitation, grateful for the cool refreshment. Dean watched the almost ecstatic look on his face, remembering a time, when he was the one, who woke up after being intubated for several days. After feeding Sam several more spoons of ice, the older brother now was ready to answer the question asked earlier.

"You had a run in with a car and the car won."

There was a smirk on his face, as he tried to make light of the event. And leave it to the oldest Winchester's uncanny ability to do the impossible, to succeed in this task also. His words brought a shadow of a smile to the way to pale face of his younger sibling, a smile that actually reached his hazel eyes.

"What does the car look like?" The reply was whispered, but very clearly spoken.

The laugh, which erupted now, was more than anything a release of the tension the three men had been under for the last few days. It felt good, that the one, they had worried about was not just physically, but also mentally coming back to them. As the laughter finally died down, all three saw the look of wonder written on Sam's face. Until now, he only focused on Dean, missing the other two men, who were standing in the background. Now his eyes went beyond his brother and were lying on his father.

"Dad?"

It came out as a question, but expressed so much more, especially, when tears appeared in his eyes.

"Yes, it's me, Sammy!"

John couldn't help but use his youngest childhood nick name and for once the youngest Winchester wouldn't have it any other way, because it was a name his father used very few times and then was always spoken with love in his voice.

The older man now stepped forward and reached for his son's hand, sitting down on the edge of the bed. And for once in their lives, words weren't needed. The messages they exchanged through the eye contact, were once of gratefulness, understanding and love and even though the older son was not part of the silent conversation, he was also not excluded from it. The family bond, which was broken for to long, was starting to to mend, what more would Dean wish for.

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There were several more opportunities for the two older Winchesters to talk to their youngest. Incredibly weak and able to stay awake for only a few minutes at a time, Sam usually listened and nodded or shook his head slightly, to preserve his strength, but it didn't matter to the other men. Both were content with having Sam's eyes hang on their every word.

It was late evening, when the injured hunter regained consciousness again and this time Dean decided to tell him about the surgery, he was to go through in the morning. Like on all prior occasions, his sibling listened quietly until he finished explaining the injuries and why the procedure was required. He left out the threat of Sam loosing his leg, wanting the younger man be able to make a decision without feeling too much pressure. Yet from the expression on his face, when he mentioned the word 'osteomyelitis', Dean knew his brother understood the seriousness of the situation.

"I told them, you would want the surgery." Dean explained, "But now, that you are awake, I want you to tell me, what you want."

There was no hesitation in his voice, when Sam answered, "You told them right!"

He gave the older brother a look of trust, before he allowed exhaustion to overtake him and slip into warmth of sleep.

TBC

_Next chapter will bring some answers about Rebekah! Please let me know what you think, your reviews really help me to keep focused. _


	17. Chapter 17

**_Thanks for all of your reviews. Real life has been kind of tough of me during the last few weeks, but I hope it will get better. I'm clearly a Sam girl, but to all the Dean girls out there, I hope you see in this chapter, that I really try to be fair and I really see all the attributes Dean has._**

The anticipation of the upcoming surgery allowed for very little sleep for the Winchester men. Well, that was the two older ones, because Sam didn't loose a minute worrying about the upcoming procedure. Still too weak to stay awake for long anyway, he refused to waste a second of his precious time on anything else than his family.

To have his father here was more than he ever could wish for. How many times had they tried to contact the older man and never heard from him. And after their meeting in Chicago a few month ago, Sam had given up hope to spend any length of time with John in the near future. Now he was here, and he came because of him. Because he wanted to be with his youngest son, the one that always argued with him, the one, he had told to never come back again.

If Sam could have put his feelings into words, it would have taken forever to express everything that was going on inside him and he just didn't have the strength to stay awake for that amount of time. Yet the silent exchange of looks, he shared with his father earlier, had been much more eloquent than any words ever could be. For the first time in years, he felt a connection to the older man and although it wasn't as strong as the one he had with his brother, it felt good. Sleep could come easy now, surgeries were no issues, because he knew himself surrounded and lifted up by the strong arms of his family.

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Early morning sunlight broke through the windows, bathing the room in its golden glance, reminding the sleepy inhabitants, that no one remembered to close the curtains the night before. John slowly rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and sat up from the way too short couch, where he had slept for the last few hours. Getting to his feet and stretching, he became conscious of all the kinks in his neck and back, suddenly making him feel way too old for his line of work.

Looking over to the hospital bed on the other side of the room, he realized, both of his sons were still fast asleep. The chair Dean was sitting in was sideways against the bed. The older boys body was leaning over to the side, his left arm on the bed, his head lying on top of it, while his legs were perched on the over the bed table. Sam, whose complexion continued to be way to pale, but who still looked a hundred times better, now that he was no longer depending on a machine for breathing, had his hand on top his brothers head, his long fingers lost in the short hair.

John mouthed a silent "Thank you, Mary!", before he walked over and carefully removed Sam's hand from Dean.

Feeling the pressure removed, the older brother shot up, instinctively moving into fight stance. His father soothingly laid his hand onto his shoulder.

"It's okay Dean, I just didn't want Sammy here to wake up. I'm sure they will be here any minute to get him."

Still slightly sleep drunken, the younger man swayed, then regained his balance and looked around in the room before meeting his father's eyes, "Where is Pastor Jim?"

"Left a few hours ago, think he went down to the chapel again. Guess we could use a good word put in for us, when Sammy goes in for his surgery."

"Thought you didn't belief in that stuff?" Dean grinned.

"I don't, but Jim does and it can never hurt now, can it?" John smirked back.

"Pastor Jim says, prayer can move mountains!"

The whispered, almost breathless comment, made both men turn around, only to find it came from Sam, who now was struggling to turn toward the side with the table.

"Lie still!" Dean instructed him, instantly seeing the pain the move caused his little brother, "Whatever you need, I'll get it for you."

"Water!" Although still whispered, it came out like a cry for help.

"Hang on for just a second, I'll get you some." His brother assured him, hurrying to get out of the room, just to almost collide with the brunette nurse entering the room.

Moving back a few paces, he apologized to the petite woman, while his eyes glid up and down her pleasant figure a few times. She blushed and gave him a shy smile, before slipping by him and walking toward the bed.

"I brought you some ice chips." She chirped, her voice a little to high for either of the mens liking, "Sorry to tell you, but because of the surgery, this is all you allowed this morning."

She leaned over the bed and pushed the spoon into the cup, after she lifted it again, now half full with the frozen mass, she carefully let it slide into Sam's mouth. He gratefully accepted the cold moisture, letting it glide around until it disolved on his tongue. At that time, the next spoon was already sliding between his half open lips and again he savored the soothing coolness.

"That's it, sorry, but I can't give you any more." She said, seeing the disappointment in his expressive eyes.

"Nah, it's okay, I feel much better." Sam assured her, not wanting her to feel guilty for something she couldn't change.

Again she blushed, taken in by the honest thankfulness in the hazel eyes. Busying herself with checking the monitor readings and IV lines, she said, "I'll give you a few minutes with your family, I will be back in a little while to give you the prep for the surgery."

She turned to walk out, just to be stopped by Dean.

"Prep, what kinda prep are you talking about?" His imagination running away with him, he pictured her torturing his baby brother through all kinds of procedures.

As if she read his mind, she giggled, then said, "It's just an injection. The anesthesiologist wanted Sam to have a mild sedative. He thinks, it will reduce some on the amount of anesthetic he needs to use."

"Oh!" For once Dean didn't know what to say, feeling kind of foolish.

"Don't worry, you couldn't have known, that's why those doctors get the big bucks, because they know all the stuff, that no one else does." She smiled, then hurried out the door.

Dean sighed, she was his kind of cute, if just her voice wasn't so annoyingly shrieky. How was one to tolerate this during a date?

"Wouldn't date her for conversation, would you?" Sam's voice was quiet but clearly had a smirk in it.

The older brother's mouth dropped, how in the world did Sam do this? He was just out of a coma, weak as a kitten, facing another serious surgery and yet, he knew exactly what was going on in Dean's mind.

"Yeah, geek boy, there are more important things during a date than talk, not that you would know." He smiled at the younger man, before tossling his hair.

Coming to Sam's rescue, John gave his oldest the "look", "Wouldn't hurt you, to do something totally different and have an intelligent conversation with a woman for once." To change the subject of the conversation, he added, "Now, don't worry Sam, the doctor, who is doing your surgery is first class."

"I know dad, I'm not scared. And I don't want you and Dean to worry either." The talking and the amount of time awake had worn him out and although he tried, his body could no longer resist the pull of sleep. Letting his eyes close, he felt the reassuring hands of his brother and father glide through his hair, before he succumbed to the darkness and let it surround him like a warm blanket during a cold night.

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Half an hour later several orderlies came to move Sam to the operating room. The nurse had given him the injection with the sedative ten minutes earlier, without the youngest Winchester ever waking up. The two older men, once again in the company of Pastor Jim, who returned shortly after Sam fell asleep, were left behind. It wasn't like the last time though, because today hope was stronger than fear. All of them were aware of the seriousness of the procedure, yet it was not about life and death this time. This was a fact, which allowed them to breath easier and relax at least a little.

Taking some time to enjoy the coffee and rolls Jim brought back, John sat down beside his friend on the couch. Dean took one of the cups and walked over to the window. Looking out, he absentmindedly removed the cover from the cup and sipped the steaming hot liquid.

After a while his father stepped behind him, putting his hand on his shoulder.

"What's on your mind?" He asked, knowing his eldest well enough to know something was bothering him.

"I guess nothing really, I just can't get over this whole thing. Why in the world would this witch choose Sam? Of all people, why him? Why didn't she choose one of the other two men instead of killing them?"Dean shook his head, too many questions and no answers.

Although he didn't have the answers either, John was ready to at least attempt at an explanation, knowing this was something, that wouldn't let go of his son. Yet before he could speak, he was interrupted by the priest.

"Why don't you two come here and sit down. I think it's time to let you in on the things I found in the journal."

He pulled the book out of his pocket and held it up for a moment, before opening it. Waiting for a moment until John and Dean joined him, he started, "I know, I should have told you earlier, but Sam was more important and we got rid of Rebekah, so I felt it could wait. But now it's time to let you know what is behind this whole thing."

He paused, looking in the two faces, now filled with worry and anticipation. He looked down into the book, then started, "First of all, it seems like Rebekah caught her fiance and sister together in a compromising situation. She writes neither of them knew, they got caught though. Disillusioned by the betrayal, she cursed both of them to remain childless. She also cursed the rest of the family to always have a good hand in business but eventually die out. Then she used the spell her mother taught her to go into a state between life and death, into a different dimension, where her body wouldn't age and she couldn't die. Her goal was to remain there until the last Chambers was gone and come back to take over the family fortune."

"Wow, talk about premeditated murder. What a bitch!" Dean couldn't help but interrupt the priest.

Both, John and Pastor Jim smiled.

"Yeah, she had it all planned out. Except, when Marlena Chambers finally died, she needed a man to come to the mansion to bring her back. The only ones, that came were the construction workers and I guess none of them had what it took." Jim looked at the two men, before he continued, "Now some of this is just my guess, but she had written into the journal, that she needed someone, whose mind she could 'touch' and connect to. It sounds that's where Sam comes in..."

"You mean his psychic abilities?" Dean blurted out.

"It sounds like it, because she wrote in here 'I will touch his mind and he will reveil to me the strength of his mind. Only the one that is right, will be strong enough to bring me back. His powers will come to me and into me and give me live. Mother said, he has to do it willingly, or I won't be able to take him over. This is wherein the problem lies."

"Now this I don't understand." John threw in, "Why would Sam given himself willingly to her?"

"Oh God!" Dean's face had taken on an unnatural pallor, "The first time she appeared, she was facing Sam and I heard him say "Please don't". At first I thought he was pleading for himself, but then she blasted me with this beam. I think he was actually pleading for me."

"He gave himself willingly, to save you!" John stated matter of factly, there was no accusation in his voice.

"Dammit, why would the kid do this?" Dean was visibly shaking now.

Jim put his hand on his arm, trying to calm him, "Because it is exactly what you would have done for him."

"But that's my job!"

The priest couldn't help but grin, he exchanged a knowing look with John before he went on to say, "You might think, it's your job, but Sam has every right to think it's his job to protect you also. You ever heard the bible passage – No greater love has a man..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know how it ends. ...that he lay down his live for his brother." Dean retorted, but then he suddenly grew quiet, as it hit him, that he had been wrong all along. The love between them was mutual, so he couldn't expect Sam to stand by and watch him get hurt. Still, it was against everything his big brother protectiveness stood for.

"If it makes you feel better." Jim Murphy seemed to be able to read the younger man's mind, "I don't think Sam expected Rebekah to be this dangerous."

Seeing the guilt stricken look on his eldest face, John interfered before Dean was able to say anything.

"None of us could have known, because this was something very different from what any of us have ever come across. Matter of fact, none of the hunters I know have ever heard of this."

Not quite ready to openly admit his father was right, but eager to hear more from the journal, the younger man just nodded in agreement.

"So what else does she say?" He questioned.

Jim looked at the page for a second, while searching for the spot, where he left off. Finally he said, "It seems like she knew, that it would take a while until Sam would totally belong to her, because she says here - Even if he gives himself willingly, I will have to be with him several times, before he belongs to me without reserve. Every time we meet, I will grow stronger and his will will grow weaker, yet still, I wish, it wouldn't have to be someone with strong abilities and an equally strong mind. How much easier would it be to just take any weak minded fool, but because he would be weak of mind, he would not the able to bring me back."

Without warning the priest became very quiet and it was very obvious, that he seemed to look for the right words to go on. The two Winchester men gave him expecting looks, although his hesitation made them more than just slightly uncomfortable.

Finally John said, "Okay, just spit it out Jim, sooner or later you have to tell us anyway!"

"Guess you're right, but it still doesn't make it any easier. Rebekah needed Sam to die an unnatural death, in order for her to come back. At the moment of his death, his life force would flow into her and give her the ability to leave the realm she resided in for more than just a short time."

Now that the truth was out, Jim Murphy waited for the repercussions of his words to hit. It didn't take but a second for John to bombard him with the first question

"So why didn't she just kill him?"

"The way she writes it, he had to die by his own hand."

The older Winchester thought for a moment, before he said, "Okay, that makes sense as far as the pills and the cutting goes, but what about the car accident? Although he stepped out into the road, it was because he saw Rebekah and not because he saw the car coming."

Pastor Jim looked down on the journal, then back up at his old friend, "That must have been an act of desperation on her part. You two had Sam tied up and watched him so closely, she couldn't get to him. When he took off, she must have been planning to tell him to step in front of the car willingly, but because you were there so fast, she didn't have time. So she took the easy way out, by beckoning him to come to her to the other side of the street. It is obvious, she didn't know what else to do and hoped this would work. Same thing with the attempts here in the hospital."

During the last few sentences, John had more and more difficulty holding his anger in. Now he was shaking with rage and his jaw was clenched tight, in an attempt not to explode. Finally he gave up and let out a flow of explicit curses, as he jumped up and beat his fist into the wall. When he had a little bit more control over himself, he turned and said, "She got off way too easy. I wish I could have gotten my hands on the bitch, I would have torn her into small pieces and fed her to the dogs."

Although as a priest, Jim knew, he shouldn't condone violence like this, not even if said in jest. And in this case, he was sure it wasn't, that his friend was deadly serious. Yet, he couldn't help but smile and agree. Rebekah Chambers had not just been some confused spirit, that couldn't move on, she had been a witch of the worst kind. Someone, who very obviously served the devil with her art and used it to kill mostly innocent people. So for once, he had no reservations, instead he whole heartily agreed with John Winchester and given the chance, would even helped him in completing the gruesome task.

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Ever since Jim Murphy had read the part about Rebekah needing Sam dead, Dean had remained quiet, seemingly listening but in reality far detached from anything being said by both Jim or his father. Even now, he didn't say a word and as the Winchester Patriarch settled down from his outburst, he noticed the unusual quietness of his eldest.

Dean had learned from the best how to mask his feelings, yet it was the same, who taught him, who was now standing before him and it was instantly clear to John, that his son was torn up inside. Yet as much as he could read Dean's expression, he still couldn't his mind. The only thing he knew was, whatever bothered the young hunter, had something to do with what Jim read from the journal.

John sat down facing his oldest. He knew, Dean would follow his order to reveal his thoughts, yet he wanted his son to tell him, because he trusted him, not because he was ordered to.

"Son, I understand this has been difficult to hear for both of us, yet I don't think what Pastor Jim said is really what's bothering you, is it?"

He looked into the deep green eyes in front of him and saw the pain and anguish in them, saw the fight to answer him in the quiver of the full lips. Trying not to push too hard, he lowered his eyes, waiting and hoping patiently for the words to come.

For a second Dean buried his head in his hands, trying to decide what he was going to do. He finally looked up again and his mouth opened, like he was going to talk, yet no words came out. Taking a deep breath, he tried again, this time with more success.

"I...I just been wondering, if Rebekah needed Sam to die to bring her back, then obviously he wasn't the one she wanted to have her children with!"

He let the question, he was going to ask stand in the room unasked. Not that it really needed to be spoken out loud, because it was clear without speaking the words, what he was trying to say.

John laid his hand on the younger man's shoulder in an attempt to soothe him, "Son, I wish, I had the answer, but at this point, no one will never know, what her plans were."

There was a short pause, before Pastor Murphy's voice came from behind them.

"I do!"

The heads of the Winchesters snapped around and glared at the holy man.

"What did you say?" Both of them asked in unison.

"I know, what her plans were!"

The silence, which followed his confession laid heavy in the room, almost making it hard to breath. The priest met their eyes steadily and without hesitation, when he finally broke the silence.

"Rebekah wrote every detail of her plan into her journal. She knew exactly what she was doing."

He stopped, when he saw the younger hunter turn pale. He really had hoped, Dean wouldn't ask this question. He would have to choose his words carefully and yet, he knew, in the end it wouldn't make any difference, the young man would be devastated by the information. There was no way for him to withhold this from him, not now, when both Winchesters knew it was written in the journal. Sending a silent prayer to heaven, he finally started.

"I think it's going to be best, if I let you hear this in her own words." He said, before he opened the book again to a page, he had priorly marked, "I am so excited, like I already feel the sweet force of the one, who will give himself too me, flowing through me. It will be beyond anything anyone has ever experienced. Oh you sweet, innocent fool, who will unknowingly sacrifice himself, so my beloved and I can be together. So he can help me to continue the bloodline of those, who carried the power since ancient times. Mother said, it would be best, if the one, who saves me and the one, who will be the father of my daughter, would be of the same blood. It would ensure, that the bloodline would be filled with their strength and psychic power. I have already made some special sacrifices, so my master would grant me this wish, after all, it is in his best interest for the line to continue at its best."

He shut the journal and again it was so quiet, a pin dropping would have sounded like an explosion.

It remained like this for several minutes, before Dean stood up abruptly, dropping his chair in the process. He stormed out of the room, without bothering to close the door behind him, leaving two startled, yet only mildly surprised men. Both of them had seen him grow up, trying to keep evil and hurt from reaching his younger brother. To see Sam used by Rebekah, so she could get him, would be something very difficult to digest for him.

"We have to talk, but first I have to go, find Dean. I have the feeling, he could use some help!" John nodded at his friend, before hurrying after his eldest.

TBC

_**Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think about this. It really helps me to know, what you like. Hugs, Vonnie**_


	18. Chapter 18

_So life is still busy, but it is getting a little better. Was on call this weekend and worked a lot. I'm not complaining so, it happens only every two months. Thanks for your kind reviews and on to the story._

John didn't take the time to wait for the elevator, as he ran after Dean. Instead he stormed down the stairs, arriving in the parking lot just in time to see the rear of the Impala disappear around the corner of the building. Disappointed, but without missing a beat, he pulled his cell phone out and hit the speed dial button for his son. Holding it up to his ear, he waited impatiently for the younger hunter to pick up. When the sound of Dean's voice instructed him to leave a message, he hung up and hit redial, just to receive the same results on his second, third and fourth attempt.

"Dammit, kid!" he cursed, before slamming the phone shut and pushing it back into his pocket.

He walked back inside, knowing there was nothing he could do. Unless he would have had a car available, right when he saw his son disappear, there would have been no way to follow him. At this time his best option was to go back upstairs and wait for Sam to come out of surgery and hope Dean would drive around long enough to cool off and come back on his own.

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Dean pushed the tape sticking out of the cassette player in and turned the volume on high, as soon as his cell started to ring. He knew without looking, it was his dad calling and not just because he was the only caller set to this particular ring tone. His father was worried about him and probably wanted to tell him to come back and talk. But this wasn't an option, because at the moment, he couldn't even think clearly, so talking was totally off his agenda. He pulled the phone out of his back pocket and threw it on the seat, ignoring this call, and the three, which followed, letting them go to voice mail.

His mind whirling with bits and pieces of Rebekah's words, he continued to drive, not really aware of where he was going, or how long it was taking him. Not until the stuttering of the engine pulled him out of his almost trance like state, did he realize, that it was shortly after noon and his baby was driving on fumes. Taking in his environment, he couldn't belief, that for once he seemed to have gotten lucky and was just a couple hundred feet away from a gas station. Guiding the classic Chevy into the lot, he made the last few feet by opening the door, stepping out and pushing with one hand on the frame, while the other stayed on the steering wheel.

After he had stilled the thirst of his car, he walked into the station and picked up a soda and several candy bars to take car of his own needs. Paying with one of his fake credit cards, he didn't even notice the smile the busty brunette behind the counter gave him, nor did he hear the "jerk", she angrily whispered at him because he ignored her. Getting back behind the wheel he drove off, still not really sure where he was or where he was going.

It wasn't until two hours later, that he was finally ready to stop. Noting the sign on the side of the road, indicating a town by the name of 'Desperation Point' two miles from his current location, he took it as a sign for him to make this is destination for today.

As he pulled in, he noted the 'Brooding Mind' Salon across from the 'Despondency' Inn. For a moment a grin flashed across his face, as he pictured the look on Sam's face, if he would be seeing his town. He could even hear himself teasing his baby brother, "Hey Sammy, whoever build this town must have known you!"

Reality overwhelmed him, as he thought of his brother. Not ready to face his thoughts, he pulled into the parking lot of the bar. Without thinking he retrieved his phone from the passenger seat and checked it, noting ten missed calls on the screen. Turning it off, he stuffed it in his pocket and peeled himself out of the car, making sure the classic Chevy was locked and his keys safely deposited into the depths of his jeans pocket, before he entered the twilight of the drinking establishment.

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John's face wore a worried expression, when he returned to the intensive care room. His friend looked at him, knowing without asking, what was going on in the other hunter's mind.

"I'm sure he is going to be alright!" He tried to encourage him.

The oldest Winchester slowly shook his head, "I wish I was so sure, but I know my firstborn, he is not going to take this lightly. Rebekah was going to kill Sam. so she could live and be with Dean. He is going to take the guilt for this upon his shoulders, just as if he had tried to kill his brother himself."

The priest wanted to deny what John told him, but he knew his friend was right. Dean always felt responsible for what happened to his younger brother. Ever since he had known the two boys, the older had always taken care of the younger, at times even going so far as to take his punishment for him.

"Have you tried to call him?" He ask, knowing it was actually a stupid thing to ask, because it would have been the first thing John would have done.

"He won't answer, let's it ring, until it goes to voicemail."

"I'm sorry John, maybe I shouldn't have read this to Dean. I knew he wouldn't take it lightly, yet I never expected this kind of reaction from him." Jim gazed at the other man, truly sorry for the pain he caused.

The hunter didn't have to think for a second before he responded, "There is nothing to forgive. He wanted to know, we both wanted to know. This is the witch's fault, not yours."

For a while there was silence in the room, both men lost in their thoughts. They worried about Dean, one of them praying for his God to hold a protective hand over the protector, while the other tried to will his oldest with his thoughts to come back, or at least call. And they also worried about Sam, who was still in surgery and far from being out of the woods, yet.

In the end it was Jim Murphy, who broke the quiet, "I still can't belief the evil that this woman represented. It was so powerful, I never seen anything like it in any human being."

"She was incredibly strong. This much power does not come from one witch, it has to be the power of many generations combined."

The priest nodded, "I've been thinking about that for a while now. It has to have something to do with the fact, that only the firstborn girl carried the green eyes. This has to be how it was passed on from generation to generation. This and that it was a very old craft they practiced. If the language is any indication, it goes back all the way to ancient Babylon, possibly even before that to the Egyptian Magicians."

John shuddered at the thought, "Can you imagine, what Rebekah could have unleashed, if she would have succeeded?"

"I rather not, hers was a satanic art and I'm just glad she is gone."

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It wasn't until six hours after Sam was taken away, that his surgeon, Dr. Burnett, entered the room. He was still dressed in the green surgical scrubs and looked tired, but at least there was a slight smile on his lips. Still, John felt unsure of what to expect. Too often had the news been discouraging. The priest put his hand on his friends shoulder, giving him a silent nod, that clearly was meant to lift the other hunter up.

"Mr. Winchester, I can't lie to you, this was one of the worst fractures I fixed in a long time." He paused, before his previous smile appeared again, only this time it was there in full power, "It took a lot of time and effort, but we did it, barring any complications, Sam should regain full use of his leg."

The Winchester patriarch couldn't help but pull his friend into a quick embrace. There were no words needed for what he felt, because Jim Murphy had been around his boys long enough to feel almost as strongly about them as he did. Turning back to the physician, he said,

"You are sure Sam's leg is going to be alright?"

"You know, there are no guaranties, but I don't see any reason why not. It is going to take a lot of time and physical therapy for it to mend, though. Even with the plates and rods we inserted, the leg has to be immobilized until the bone fractures are fused well enough to withstand the movement. Also, the damage to the muscles, tendons and ligaments was extensive enough, that there was really nothing that wasn't torn. So I would think at best, it will be six, more likely at least eight weeks until he can even think about starting anything more than non-weight bearing exercises."

For the first time John smiled, imagining trying to keep Sam from doing things his own way, "This is going to be tough on him, but we will make sure, he will follow any instructions."

Dr. Burnett looked at the father before him and was glad he was able to bring some encouraging news. He had seen the young man during his initial surgery, when he fixed his arm and had followed his progress ever since then.

"I'm sure Sam won't be feeling up to taking any trips on his own for quite a while. Although his other leg is a simple fracture, he won't be able to put full weight on it for several weeks and even then he won't be able to handle crutches because the fracture in his arm. I know this sounds discouraging, but he is really a very lucky young man."

"I know, Doc, I know and I will sure remind him of it, whenever he gets down." The smile disappeared from John's face without warning, as he remembered, that it usually would be Dean, who would pull Sam back up, when he was down in the dumps.

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Dean set the empty shot glass back on the table. He had lost count of how many he had, but from the look of the once full bottle in front of him, it had been more than enough. Well, maybe not really, because he just now started to feel a comforting numbness take over from the previous painful guilt feeling. Just a few more would chase the last bit of it away too.

It was just not right. As the big brother, it was his job to keep Sam save, to protect him from the things that went bump in the night. Instead his brother had been used to get to him. Not just that, Sam had been chosen to provide the life force, so this witch chick could have her little witch brats with him, Dean. How in the world was he supposed to live with this? His kid brother almost died because of him. He might have just as well put a bullet through Sam's head himself.

He started to poor another shot, but then changed his mind and put the bottle to his lips instead. Taking a large gulp, he pulled it away to swallow, then repeated his action, until he drained all the contents. Setting it back onto the table, he didn't care, when it tipped over and rolled to the floor. He slid to the end of the booth, pulled himself up and started to walk towards the exit. Stumbled was probably the preferable word to use, to describe his gait at this time. The alcohol robbed him of his ability to control his limbs at the same time, as he finally achieved his goal, to no longer feel anything but the warmth of the liquor buzzing through his system.

If he thought he was drunk before, the cool air hitting him, when he left the tavern. proved him wrong. Loosing his balance, he slammed into the car parked closest to the door, which made him realize, he was way beyond being simply drunk. Trying to right himself, he looked across the street to the motel, which at this point might as well been five miles away instead of just 100 feet. A silly grin appeared on his face, as his eyes fell upon the black car parked only a few feet away.

Making his way over to the Impala, he lost his footing again and tumbled into the side of his trusted transportation. He held on, as once again a grin appeared upon his lips and he lovingly slid his hand across the smooth black finish. For a moment he rested his cheek on the roof.

"You won't let me down, will you, baby?"

He pressed his lips against the metal, then fumbled around in his pockets for the key. Finally pulling it out, it took for him to get down to his knees, holding the key with both hands, while his wrists steadied them by pushing against the door, to get it into the lock.

Unlocking the door and opening it was easy, compared to standing and sliding into the back seat, which didn't happen without him running into the door jam. Pulling the door shut behind him, he laid down, asleep before his head hit the upholstery.

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Sam was having an awful time to wake up from the anesthesia. The moment awareness first tickled him with its teasing feathers, nausea also hit him like a sledgehammer. He woke up to gagging and retching,

that made him feel like his stomach was inside out and was being sucked through his esophagus just to be expelled with the rest of this insides. His still disoriented mind screamed in panic, as his lungs filled with burning acid instead of air. He felt a hand touch him and a demanding voice call out,

"I need suction here stat!"

His next impression was that of something snaking its way down his windpipe and into his lungs, making the feeling of suffocating even worse. He struggled, desperately trying to get, whatever was intruding his body, out of him. Hands held him down, a soothing voice telling him, it was going to be alright. As he continued to fight them, not understanding, what was going on, his only thought was for his brother. He needed Dean, why was he not helping him.

"I can't suction him right as long as he is struggling like this. Give him something to settle him down."

He heard the voice from far away and it made him panic even more. Suction, they were going to suck something out of him, he couldn't let them. Again he tried to get away, still fighting to get air into his lungs, which still felt like they were on fire. His body felt heavy and his mind became more muddled. In a last attempt he turned his head to the side, just to feel hands hold on to it. Loosing control over his muscles, he slid into the darkness, loosing the battle against the monster that burned him from the inside out.

"He is out again, lets get his airway cleaned out fast and than get a chest x-ray." The anesthesiologist ordered, disconnecting the syringe from the IV port, "He doesn't need a pneumonia right now, his lungs are still healing, they couldn't deal with it."

The nurse with the suctioning catheter gave him a nod as she continued her task. After several minutes she was finally satisfied, when she saw no more discolored sputum return through the thin tube.

"Done, let's hope this was it. Get x-ray in here now." she said before she turned to the doctor, "Do you want to start him on an antibiotic?"

"Definitely, I'm going to speak with Dr. Gonzales, she knows his history better than I do. I think we should get him up to the unit after they got the chest x-ray done. His family might be better at calming him down the next time he wakes up." He suggested.

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The anesthesiologist entered the room at the same time, as two orderlies pushed Sam back in. While they transferred the young man into the bed, the physician turned to John and explained what had happened in the recovery room.

"I think we got his lungs cleared and hopefully we can prevent an aspiration pneumonia with the antibiotics we are going to start. There is always the danger of chemical pneumonia due to the caustic action of the stomach acid, but I'm hoping we got him clear fast enough, so that this won't be an issue."

He excused himself, before the oldest Winchester could ask any question, leaving the room in a hurry.

Slowly John stepped over to his son's bed, finding a nurse busy with hanging the IV bags and attaching the oxygen cannula to the outlet on the wall. She checked his blood pressure after she was done and adjusted the oxygen flow, then smiled.

"Everything looks fine. It will be a while before he wakes up though, the sedative they gave him will probably keep him under for another hour or two. I will stay here for the time, because usually we keep patients in recovery until they are awake."

John was almost happy, that Sam was going to give him a little reprieve from having to tell him about Dean. He was sure his youngest was going to worry about his brother and might get upset. This was something he was not looking forward to.

"I will sit right here with him, so why don't you just go and I will let you know, if something changes." He told the nurse, eager to be alone with Sam and Jim Murphy.

"I don't know, if I can do this, but I will ask my supervisor."

She slipped out of the room, returning after a few minutes.

"My supervisor says it will be okay, as long as I check on him every 15 minutes and if you make sure you will call with any little change." She announced.

The Winchester patriarch just nodded, grateful to get his way. He sat down beside the bed and watched as she checked on his son, before she finally left the room again. Looking over to his friend, who now took the chair on the other side, he said, "I knew, it was to much to hope, that just once everything would go without complication."

The resignation in his voice was almost too much for the priest, yet for his friends sake, he had to keep his feelings hidden.

"It is not too much to ask, but in our line of work, complications are just a given. And after all, Sam is going to be okay, this is just a little set back."

"I hope you are right" the other man wasn't quite sure, if he was ready for any kind of optimism right now.

"Sure, I'm right. I already ask my 'boss' and will take some extra time to talk to him again later. Right now, I think he understands, that I need to be here with Sam and you more than with him."

At that, John couldn't help but grin. This was what he liked so much about the priest. Jim practiced his faith very openly, but never was in any ones face with it. He did it in a quiet, very real way and at time even joked about it.

"Thanks Jim!" He said, silently taking his son's hand into his. God, how he wished Dean was here. This just didn't feel right.

TBC

_I actually wanted to write more, but didn't have enough time, so I decided to end this chapter here, instead of making you wait any longer. Hope this is alright. No evil cliffies this time, but also no resolutions yet. Let me know what you think. Hugs, Vonnie_


	19. Chapter 19

_So here is the next chapter. Thanks for all the awesome reviews. They really made me feel better. All the stress at work and home has been getting to me and you make me feel so much better. At this time, I want to thank my anonymous reviewer for her/his kindness also. _

**Standard Disclaimer applies like always! (Boy, do I wish it wouldn't)**

Awareness came much more gentle to Sam this time around. Although, there was a feeling of nausea accompanying this ascent into the world of consciousness, it was just a mild tickle, compared to the violent vomiting, he experienced the last time. Enjoying the peaceful quietness, he allowed himself to float in between the two realms for a while. Only the sudden awareness of something not being quite right, made him open his eyes abruptly and without warning.

After the blurriness cleared from his vision, he let his eyes dart around the room, noticing his father and Pastor Jim seated at either side of the bed, involved in a conversation about a past hunt. For a moment his still slightly foggy mind attempted to find the missing piece in the picture and he closed his eyes, replaying the scene repeatedly.

"Dad, Pastor Jim..., Dad, Pastor Jim...,Dad, Pastor Jim."

And then it hit him.

"Dean!"

Although not very loud, the word was enough, to make both men at his bed jump to their feet and scramble to his side, at the same time as his eyes flew open again. Scared hazel orbs stared at them, panic unmistakably written in them.

John's hand stroked calmingly through the dark mob, his face trying to hide his own fear, "Shshsh, Sammy, it's okay, Dean had to leave for a while, he will be back soon."

He averted his gaze and locked eyes with Jim Murphy, almost like he was asking for forgiveness for the lie he just told. Instead of an answer, he received a smile and a nod. Turning his head back towards Sam, the older Winchester gave his youngest a reassuring smile.

"Why...leave me?" The whispered question was almost to quiet to be heard, yet it burned in the father's ears like it was a loud scream.

"No, no!" He tried to convince him, "He didn't leave you, he just had to help Bobby with a hunt about 50 miles from here."

"No, he left!" Sam whispered resigned, knowing his brother would never abandon him like this. He closed his eyes, ignoring all further attempts of comfort from both his father and Jim. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks, as his tired mind tried to figure out, why Dean wasn't by his side. After a few minutes exhaustion took over and he slid back into a restless sleep.

"Dammit, why can't we ever get a break?" John stalked over to the window and slammed his fist into the wall, his voice raw with suppressed anger and resentment.

Jim silently laid his hand on the other man's shoulder, unable to put his thoughts into words without loosing his composure. Right now he was angry himself, angry at his "boss", angry at the world, angry at himself.

"I'm going to let the nurse know Sam woke up for a while. I'm sure, she wants to check him." He finally said, walking out of the room without another word.

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Dean was dreaming about one of the chicks, he dated during his senior year in high school. She had been two years older, but because she wasn't all that bright, had been held back twice. Her body had been in no way held back, though. Now he was revisiting some of the best times, he spent with Alicia and as it usually happened in the world of dreams, the memories were exaggerated beyond anything that actually happened.

The honking of several car horns and screeching of brakes tore him out of his pleasant dream world, making him sit up with a start. Several things came to his intention immediately. Firstly, his head felt like John Bonham was drumming a solo in it and secondly, his stomach churned in a fashion, that didn't afford him the reprieve of waking up completely. Struggling to open the door, he hung his head out and expelled the contents of his stomach on the asphalt of the parking lot, subconsciously making sure nothing splashed on his precious car.

After lying with his head still hanging over the side of the backseat for a moment, he sat up. This time very slowly, so both his brain and his stomach could keep up with the rest of his bodies movements. Yet there was no way to keep the pounding in his head from picking up at least a notch.

"Ooooh!" A moan escaped him and his hand went up to his head, like he was trying to prevent the drum stick from breaking through his skull.

Sitting without moving did settle the pain enough for him to finally be able to clear his mind, yet as the memories returned, so did the guilt and self loathing. He was to blame for his brother's current condition, as he not just failed to protect him, but caused it by simply being there.

After sitting for a while, dwelling on the dark thoughts swirling around in his head, it was his body, that in the end pulled him out of them, as it reminded him, that it had needs too. Ever so carefully, he got out of the car and closed the door, making sure not to slam it. This time it wasn't because he wanted to spare the classic Chevy from any damage, but rather to protect himself from any additional loud noises.

Sliding into the driver's seat and closing that door with just as much care, making sure the radio was turned off, before starting the engine.

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The short drive across the street to the motel proofed almost too much, as even the slightest turn of his head made not just the drum beat harder but also increased the churning in his stomach again. Relieved, he pulled up in a parking spot close to the office and he made his way into the office.

The man behind the desk was tall and skinny with short white hair and wrinkles, which dated him back to a time long before the Great War. He smiled kindly upon the somewhat disheveled looking young man with slightly cloudy green eyes and dark rings surrounding them. He always prided himself in being a good judge of character and this youngster appeared to him as someone, who was in need of a soft bed and a safe place, where he could sort out his troubles.

After Dean had signed in under the name 'Dean Forrester', he handed him the key to his room, having very carefully chosen the cleanest room of the motel, just bordering the office. The younger man was grateful, that he didn't have to return to his car and made his way straight to his room. After using the bathroom, he laid down on the queen sized bed, finding it actually soft and clean feeling for a change.

After five minutes, his rest was interrupted by a gentle knock. Slightly annoyed, he made his way to the door and after opening it, found the elderly manager standing in front of him with a tray in his hands.

"It was time to clean up the continental breakfast and rather than throwing this out, I thought maybe you would like something." He smiled and walked by him, setting the tray onto the table.

Slightly surprised, Dean turned and followed, taking in the sight unfolding himself in front him. There was a large glass of orange juice, coffee, bagels, cream cheese and jam and to make it complete a small bottle of aspirin.

"Don't want to offend you, but couldn't help smelling the booze on you. I was young once too, even if it doesn't seem that way." He chuckled slightly, then walked away and pulled the door shut behind him, leaving a slightly confused Dean standing in the middle of the room.

Shaking his head, an action he immediately regretted, the young hunter finally sat down. He opened the bottle and shook two Aspirins in his hands. Popping them into his mouth, he flushed them down with the juice, emptying the glass in several large gulps. Preparing one of the bagels, he took a large bite, then enjoyed the coffee, which proofed both steaming hot and flavorful, unlike the usual motel brew, which was more on the weak side and luke warm. Gratefully, he noticed the large thermos for the first time. A slight smile slid across his face, he would have to make sure to thank the man for his kindness.

After finishing his breakfast, he decided it would be a good idea to shower before trying to sleep the rest of his hangover off. That was when he remembered his duffel was still in the trunk. Shuffling outside, he retrieved it and dropped it on the bed before heading to the bathroom.

It was 30 minutes later, when he returned, a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair sticking out in all direction. Even though his head was still drumming the beat to an unknown music, most likely Metallica or Led Zeppelin, the hot shower and the Aspirin had brought it down to a bearable level. And after the food, his stomach felt almost normal again.

Without bothering to dress, he shoved the bag of the bed and slipped underneath the covers. His worries of not sleeping proved unfounded as he fell asleep almost instantaneously.

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John was worried. Not that this was a new emotion for him. His whole life had been filled with worry and the last few days had done nothing to decrease this feeling. Once again he had spent a sleepless night at Sam's side. His son woke up several times, but after looking around and not seeing his brother, his eyes filled with tears every time and he closed them again, refusing to acknowledge anyone or even answer questions about, whether he was in pain or in need of anything.

It was only because of Jim Murphy's reassuring presence, that the oldest Winchester found the strength to keep going. He couldn't even count the times anymore, when he had left the unit for a short time to attempt to reach his eldest. Yet Dean never answered, all of his calls going straight to voice mail, which proofed, he either had turned the phone off on purpose or his battery ran down. On two occasions, he left a message, begging his firstborn, to either come back or to at least call.

"I brought you some coffee and a breakfast sandwich."

The voice of Pastor Jim pulled the hunter out of his thoughts. He looked up and shook his head at the bag being handed to him, but received the cup with the steaming java with thanks.

"John, you are just as foolish as your sons. You won't help either of them by starving yourself." Jim grinned for a moment and added, "It really shouldn't surprise me though, they had to get it somewhere."

At that, a grin moved across the rugged face of the oldest Winchester, "Guess you are right, foolishness runs in the family. That, and stubbornness, combined with a guild complex."

He took the bag out of the other man's hand and set it beside the coffee on the bedside table. John was a man of action and control, that's what made him such a great hunter. Danger couldn't hold him back. This was just not, what he was used to. Not since the time after Mary had been killed, had he felt this helpless, this often.

"God, Jim, what am I going to do. I have no idea where Dean went. I guess, I could drive around, look at all the places he might go, but that would take forever. I don't want to leave Sam for this long." He gave his friend a desperate look.

"I already made some calls. There are enough hunters out there to keep there eyes open. Two of them are actually in town and promised to look around. In the meantime, we have to make sure Sam won't find out, why Dean left. I guess, we have to keep up the lie, we started. Not that I like it, but sometimes there is nothing else to be done."

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_He was standing beside his brother, feeling the wall for any hidden compartments, but his mind wasn't really on the task. He tried anything, but he just wasn't able to convince Dean to let them wait till later to come here. Now he was afraid, she wouldn't come because of the early hour. Maybe he could keep his brother here long enough. It wouldn't be easy, but he had to try. He just had to see her again, although he wasn't even sure why, but he knew it was important, so important in fact, that he would do what ever it took to make it happen._

_There was a noise from the door and as he turned, he heard the whisper in his ear, telling him, that she had come for him. His heart beat fastened and excitement grabbed a hold of him, as he locked eyes with Dean before completing the turn and seeing Rebekah. She smiled at him and the intensity of her sparkling green eyes hit him with a dizzying force. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dean bring up his gun. _

"_Save me, he is going to kill me!" _

_He heard her desperate call for help in his mind. Without another thought, he swung around and snatched the weapon out of the surprised hunters hand. Hitting the other man at the side of the head with the butt of the gun, he watched in satisfaction, as he crashed to the ground unconscious._

_SN SN SN SN SN _

"Dean...!"

The scream brought Jim Murphy and John Winchester out of their conversation. Both men hurried to his side.

"Dean will be back soon, Sammy. You need to calm down." John attempted to reassure his now sobbing youngest son.

"No, he won't!"

The words came out in between sobs, sounding more like those of a stubborn five year old, than those of a young man. And if the situation wouldn't have been so serious, John would have even smiled. Instead he said,

"You know, Dean would never leave you."

"I know he already did!" The sadness in the whispered words was unmistakable.

The oldest Winchester exchanged a glance with the priest before trying again to comfort his boy, "No, there is nothing, that could ever make him do that."

For a short moment he thought, he got through to Sam, as the sobs stilled and his eyes closed. His lips pressed together, as he tried to control the quiver, his hazel orbs popped open again without warning. This time his voice was steady, the words that came out of his mouth so detached, they didn't even sound like they were coming from the same person.

"I hit him, almost killed him. He hates me" Trying to get away from his father', he turned his head to

the other side. Finding himself face to face with Pastor Jim, he closed them, too ashamed to look either man in the eyes.

Shock was clearly written on John's face and as he looked at his friend, he could read the same expression there. Neither man had expected the memory of this to resurface so soon in the young man's mind. To be honest, they had hoped it never would.

"Sammy, Dean doesn't hate you, because it wasn't your fault."

He waited for a moment, hoping for a response, but found very soon, that Sam wasn't going to give him one. Unable to hide his distress, he left the room to make another call eldest son. Once again, only Dean would be able to help Sam.

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He slept for almost four hours, before the sun shining straight into his face woke him up. Looking around for a moment, Dean sat up and rubbed his eyes, before he walked over to the table and poured a cup of coffee from the thermos. To his surprise, the black liquid was still steaming. After he felt several gulps and his parched throat felt better, his eyes fell on the towel, which was now laying on the floor.

"Guess I better get dressed before someone decides to walk in on me." He thought, as he reached for the duffel bag containing his clothes.

After dressing, he sat down on the bed, his thoughts running back over the events that led him to this place. He thought about Sam and the promise, to always protect him, he had made a long time ago. What was he supposed to do now, that his plain presence endangered his brother? True, this time Sam pulled through, but what about next time? What if he didn't get so lucky then?

Dean knew, he could never live with himself, if Sam would die because of him. In the end, he came to the only possible conclusion, at least the only one, that made sense in his mind. He had to stay away from his brother.

Although the decision was difficult, if not almost impossible for him to make, after he had finally embraced it, he felt almost at peace. He knew, it was the right thing to do. He told himself, Sam would go back to Standford, or maybe even stay with their dad. No matter what, Dean would disappear for a while, check in with Sam every few weeks and maybe later on, when every one had accepted the new arrangement, he could go back and visit for a few days ever so often.

He stood up and grabbed his keys from the table. He would grab a bite to eat and than look for a game of pool to make a few bucks. Life would be lonely without his pain in the butt little brother, but as long as he knew Sam was okay, it didn't matter.

TBC

_So after I was told my readers would rather have a shorter chapter, than none at all, I decided to listen and end this chapter right here. (Thanks gidgetgal9 for the tip) So let me know again what you think? Is it still up to your expectations? Hugs, Vonnie_


	20. Chapter 20

_Thanks for your awesome reviews. I told one of you, I would try to get the next chapter up by the end of the week, but wouldn't make any promises. I'm glad, I didn't, because, this didn't get done in time. But, today is only the first day of the week, so it's not this much late. Hugs, Vonnie_

Sam was certain his brother hated him. He was absolutely, without a doubt sure of it, because there was no other explanation for his leaving. Yeah, so his father wanted him to belief, that Dean was just on a hunt with Bobby, but even with his mind tired and fuzzy because of all the drugs they gave him, he knew without a doubt, there was no way his older brother would ever do this to him. Not without something seriously wrong. He knew what was wrong, because he saw it in his dream. A dream, that actually wasn't one at all, instead it was a returning memory, making him see, what he did to Dean. Showing him, how he knocked Dean out and almost kill him. For this he hated himself. And if he felt like this, how much more would his brother have to hate him.

The longer he thought about it, the more he realized, how much he deserved Dean abandoning him. There was really no other option. What he did was unforgivable and he had now idea how he was supposed to live with this knowledge. Why in all the world didn't he just die?

In his muddled and confused mind the youngest Winchester felt the guilt of his "evil" deed heavily weigh down on him. Unable to do anything else, than just lie here, he let himself slide back into a restless sleep, embracing the torture of his nightmares as a welcoming punishment.

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John watched his youngest, as he starred onto ceiling, carefully avoiding eye contact with anyone coming close, by either averting his gaze or closing his eyes. It was painful to watch the emotions playing out in the expressive face. Still marred by cuts and bruises and way too pale, it mirrored the depth of his guilt and anguish over what he perceived he was guilty of. Although fairly sure Sam wasn't going to listen to him, he wasn't ready to not at least give it his best shot.

"Sam, I want you to understand one thing. This wasn't your fault. You hit Dean, when you were under the influence of Rebekah. You would have never done it otherwise. Dean knows that, and he was never mad at you, never once blamed you for it."

As expected, he didn't get any reply and nothing indicated the younger man even heard him. Instead his eyes slid shut and within seconds the father could tell his son was asleep. Leaning back in his chair, he looked over at the priest, who had quietly watched the one sided talk.

"Dean will be back, John." Jim assured his friend, "He can't stay away from his brother for too long."

"I hope you are right!"

His eyes moved back to Sam, who's eyes were now moving rapidly behind closed lids, while a unintelligible mumbling escaped his lips. Trying to comfort his so obviously distressed son, he gently reached out to stroke the stubbly cheek, while his other hand held on to the younger man's hand. For once lost for words, he just continued his action, hoping to provide some kind of comfort. After what seemed like forever, Sam finally calmed, yet even then John was unwilling to let go of him, needing the connection to keep him grounded.

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Dean pulled the Impala back into motel parking lot, stopping it in the same spot, he parked last time. It was short after midnight and he was in a good mood. His hustling paid off, leaving him with almost a thousand dollars in his pocket. Getting out of the car, he noticed the old guy from this morning sitting in a chair in front of the office.

Shouldn't people his age be in bed by now? Sure it was a mild, moon lit night, but he always thought older people were kinda like little kids, they needed their sleep. Well, what did he know? After all, he really didn't know any people older than fifty something, at least not well enough to know about their sleeping habits. He gave the man a nod and turned towards his room.

"Mr. Forrester!"

He turned, when he heard the voice behind him.

"Or may I call you Dean?"

"Dean is fine." He responded, walking back towards the guy.

"Have a seat!" He pointed toward the chair beside him, then continued after the younger man took the appointed spot, "You look a lot better than this morning and obviously refrained from having more than a couple tonight."

Slightly irritated, the young man was ready to leave, when he felt a calming hand on his arm.

"I know what you are thinking. How much I'm drinking is none of the old geezer's business. Well, you are right, but I just thought you might need some help."

Dean couldn't help, but smile at this, "Why would I need help?"

"You know, age doesn't always just make you slower and senile, it sometimes gives you a lot of life experience. That is, if you keep your eyes and mind open. You just have this aura around you, that made me think you might."

"Aura? Me? That's a new one. But now you got me interested, what kind of help do you think I need?"

"You seemed to be very torn up, at least you were this morning. Now it feels more like you came to a decision. Am I right?"

"What if you are?" The hunter responded with a question.

"If I'm right, I think you came to the wrong conclusion." the manager answered.

Dean let out a laugh, "What would you know about my decisions? You have no idea, what this is all about."

"Maybe not, but I told you before, I've been young once, too and I have done stupid things, made choices I regretted later. I don't want you to do the same."

He looked at the young man with honest compassion in his eyes, before he removed his hand, which was still lying on the hunters arm, "Why don't you give it a chance and rethink your decision? Sleep on it and see, if you still feel the same about it in the morning."

"I don't need to think about it. I know, I'm doing the right thing."

Standing up, he slowly walked, leaving the old man behind with a gently smile upon his face.

"I think, you will change your mind, matter of fact, I'm sure you will." He mumbled, quiet enough, so the other wouldn't understand him. He had recognized the look in his eyes and it told him, even though the young one didn't know it yet, he was going to rethink his plan, whatever it was. Yep, age had it's privileges, even if it was only the wisdom, how to influence the younger generation, without them realizing it.

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Sam's night had been spent engulfed in further nightmares, memories of what happened, while he was under the influence of Rebekah Chambers. Seeing himself swallow the pain pills, reliving the feelings of desire he felt for the witch, listening to the curses, he yelled at Dean and his father. But also when he sliced his skin with the glass shards and how he hit his brother, again. He felt the pull of the beautiful woman, her enchantment calling for him for days without seizing. Unable to wake from the terror, he resigned himself to it. It was just part of his penalty. People suffered, because of him and he hurt the brother, who sacrificed so much for him, this was more, than he would ever be able to carry.

Finally waking up, he felt miserable, the pain worse, than it had been and his body feeling like it was on fire. Letting out a tortured moan, he felt a cool hand on his forehead.

"Jim, he is burning up!" John's cry for help elicited an immediate response, as the other man ran out of the room, instead of bothering with the call light.

It took only a minute before he returned with the nurse.

"I already called Dr. Gonzales, she should be here in a moment." She said, before starting to check Sam's temperature.

The doctor entered the room just as she pulled the thermometer out of her patient's ear.

"103!" She said.

This elicited a curse from the Hispanic woman, while the priest and John exchanged worried looks.

"His oxygenation is 98, I don't think it's pneumonia."

Still, she took her stethoscope out and listened for several minutes to Sam's lungs, before she turned to the two men, "His air exchange is still a little diminished in the bases and there is a bit of fluid, mostly were we pulled the tubes yesterday, but that's to be expected. I will order an x ray, just to be on the save side, but I really don't think it's his lungs causing the fever."

The relief the father felt, was only short lived, after all, Sam's elevated temperature had to come from somewhere. He watched, as the physician methodically started to check all of his son's injuries, ending with the immobilizer on his leg.

As she gently opened it, she knew without doubt, that this was the culprit. The dressing was discolored with yellow-green discharge mixed with occasional darker red spots. As she pulled the bandage off, she could see the severe tautness of the skin and the redness and heat radiating from it. The sutures cut deep into the skin, several of them broken by the tension. Hearing the gasp from John Winchester, she looked up, her eyes displaying the sadness, she felt. Why could this young man never get a break. What were the chances to develop an infection this severe so soon after surgery?

As if reading her mind, John gave her a resigned look, "It's not your fault Dr. Gonzales. Sam has always been a magnet for every complication you can think of."

"I'm sorry, you all have been through a lot and this is really not something that happens every day. Post surgical infections are usually fairly mild."

John rubbed his hand over his face, his brown eyes tiredly wandering between his son and the doctor.

"So what is going to happen now?" He asked quietly.

First of all, I'm going to take a sample of the drainage, so we can send it to the lab and culture it. Then we start him on a broadband antibiotic and I will open the wound and flush it. The plan is to leave it open until the infection is under control and we can do a secondary closure." She met his eyes, trying to look more confident than she actually felt.

"Is it really this easy?" The oldest Winchester knew the answer, before he'd even asked it.

"It's that easy, as long as the antibiotics work!"

"And if not?"

"Then we try until we find the right one, otherwise..." She left the rest open to his interpretation, not willing to throw the word "amputation" into the mix, yet.

"Ya, well, you better get started then!"

Pushing some stray hairs out of Sam's sweat soaked face, he turned away and walked over to the window. He put his left hand up against the wall and let his head hang, as a feeling of utter despair overtook him. After more than 22 years of protecting his sons, of fighting, so evil wouldn't win, he now just didn't have the strength to do it anymore.

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Although Dean tried to dismiss the old man's words as craziness, he couldn't get them out of his mind. The peace, he had felt, after making a decision, was gone.

"Darn old people, just can't keep their opinions to themselves." He mumbled, as he peeled his clothes off and laid down.

Dean knew, he made the right choice. There was no way, he would risk Sam's life by sticking around him. But what, if the old guy was right? What, if he made the wrong decision?

Getting up, he trotted into the bathroom. Leaning over the sink, he opened the faucet and splashed water onto his face.

"Dammit!" He slammed his fist into the wall beside the mirror, "He doesn't even know, what this is all about. Probably just has no one else to talk too."

He washed the blood off his knuckles and returned to bed, hoping, that sleep would take his doubt away and give him the courage to stick to his option, he had chosen.

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_John was standing by the bed, his features set in stone, as he looked down at Sam. His son wasn't sleeping, but he also wasn't with him. His usually clear hazel eyes were cloudy and had a feverish shine to them. Although he was now on two different antibiotics, his leg had yet to improve. At least the good news was, his temperature was down to 100.5 F and had been holding there all night and into the morning. Yet the father knew, it would take more than just medication to bring his boy back. _

_He stroked the unruly dark mop, wishing back the times, when he could make all things better with only a simple kiss and hug. But the times, when he was the unfailing hero for his boys, were long gone. Now things were much more complicated. He no longer had the power to fix anything, or least that was what it felt like._

_He perceived a present beside him and knew without looking, it was that of his friend, trying to provide him with the power, he needed to continue this journey._

"_Jim, I don't know, what will happen, if Dean doesn't find his way back here soon. As long as Sammy thinks, it is his fault his brother left, he is not going to fight this infection."_

_SN SN SN SN SN_

Dean sat up in bed with a gasp. Disoriented, he looked around, unsure what just happened. As he became more aware of his surroundings, the memory of the vivid dream returned also. He saw his father and Pastor Jim, but most of all he saw Sam. His brother looked worse, than when he went into surgery. Recalling his father's words, he realized he was fighting some kind of infection. Yet, what was even worse, Sam thought, it was his fault that his brother left.

"Man, what a weird dream."

He made his way to the bathroom, when a thought hit him with all it's might. What if it wasn't just a dream? Could there be more to it? Although he attempted to dismiss it, the thought caught on, continuing to dig into his mind, while he was showering and not letting go, even when he got dressed.

If Sam really blamed himself for his leaving, then going through with his plan, wouldn't protect his brother, it would only hurt him more. If he just knew for sure.

Without further thinking, Dean hurried out to the Impala, leaving his things behind. The room was paid for a week, so there was no need for him to check out yet. If this dream was really just that, a silly dream, he would come back and get his things, before leaving for a different destination. If it wasn't just a dream, he had no time to waste, he needed to get back to Sam as fast as possible

Pulling out of the parking lot, he never noticed the eyes of the old man following him until he disappeared.

"I told you, you would change your mind!" He smiled, before he returned to his duties.

TBC

_So what do you think? Am I going over the top here? Let me know please. Hugs, Vonnie_


	21. Chapter 21

_Thanks for your loyalty, thinking of all of you faithful reviewers, keeps me writing. Now on with the story._

Dean drove the way back to the hospital in record time. Although, if anyone would have asked him, he would have to confess, that driving the direct route, rather than drifting around without a goal, might have at least something to do with it. Now he was standing in the hallway of the intensive care unit, in front of his brothers room. For some reason, he suddenly hesitated, reluctant to face his father and most of all his brother. What, if Sam was alright and, after seeing him, he couldn't find the courage to leave his brother again? Just as he was ready to turn around, he made himself stop. He had to see for himself, because if the kid wasn't okay, he needed his big brother in there with him.

He walked toward the room, when the door opened and an aide appeared. Catching it just in time, before it closed again, he gave her a smile, then stood in the doorway for a moment. His breath caught, when he heard the words, coming from his father's mouth.

"Jim, I don't know, what will happen, if Dean doesn't find his way back here soon. As long as Sammy thinks it is his fault. his brother left, he is not going to fight this infection."

He watched as the priest put his hand on John's shoulder, seemingly looking for words of comfort, words, which just wouldn't come to him this time. Both men looked drawn and like they were at the end of their rope, which made his guilt feelings return with all their power.

Letting out the breath, he had been holding, he stepped forward, "How is Sammy?"

The question was whispered, but elicited an immediate response.

"Dean!"

John took the few steps towards his oldest and wrapped his strong arms around him, holding him, like he was the lost son from the bible. Tears stung his eyes and he blinked several times, trying to control them. Grateful for the gift, he'd been given, he sent a silent prayer to heaven and as his eyes locked with Jim, he could tell, the other man had just done the same. Only after holding on for another few moments, did the father let go of his son.

"It wasn't your fault!" He said, knowing, his words wouldn't give Dean the absolution, he was looking for, but hoping it would help him, at least until his Sam could give him his.

The younger hunter just nodded, then walked over to the bed. Grabbing a chair, he sat down and took hold of his brother's hand.

Leaning forwards, he said, "Listen to me Sammy, it wasn't your fault, that I left. You didn't do anything wrong."

Seeing Sam trying to turn his face away from him, he gently put his hand on his fever hot cheek and turned it back.

Not letting go, he continued, "Don't do this, kiddo. I'm alive, I'm okay and you had no control over what you did."

He could see tears forming in Sam's hazel eyes and had to listen closely to understand the words coming from his lips.

"You are my brother and I tried to kill you,... twice!"

"Okay, let's get this straight, for one, it was only once, the second time, it didn't even hurt. The only reason I even fell that time, was because you caught me off guard."

"But all those things, I said..."

Dean gave him his biggest grin, "Dude, you were so out of it, I don't think you had any idea, who Dad or I were. You thought, we kidnapped you or something, so I can't blame you for being mad at us."

For the first time the glassy eyes cleared a little, "You're sure?"

"Absolutely, little bro!"

Sam looked into Dean's eyes and any doubt he still had was wiped away. His brother truly didn't blame him. He didn't leave because of what he did. Relief flooded him, yet at the same time, somewhere in his feverish mind, a question formed, one, which he needed an answer to. The need for it was so great, that even his weakness and almost overwhelming urge to give in to the approaching darkness, became meaningless beside it.

"Why did you leave, if it wasn't because of what I did?"

Now it was Dean's turn to try and avoid fessing up, yet Sam was just as determined to find out, what bothered his brother. Unable to make the older hunter look at him, he instead used his best pleading voice to convince him.

Please, Dean, I really need to know!"

The desperate request and the unsteadiness of the voice, revealing to him, how ill his brother really was, went straight to Dean's heart.

Unable to refuse him any longer, he said, "What happened to you was my fault. Rebekah didn't want you, she just used you, because of your psychic powers. Your dying would have allowed her to take over your life force and come back. The man, that she wanted to live with, was me."

He let the last sentence stand in the room, watching for his brother's reaction. Yet, if he expected anger or at least shock, he was disappointed.

"So what?" There was no hesitation in Sam's voice, "she couldn't use you to come back, it had to be me. And if you wouldn't have been with me, she would have found some other poor fool."

Although at this time way beyond exhaustion, he couldn't help but jest, "She would have been sorely disappointed with you, after all, you are not a one-woman-man."

Dean grinned at his brother's comment, appreciating the humor more than Sam ever would know. He took the words for what they were, full absolution from any fault.

Realizing how much strength it took his brother to stay awake, he hurried to say, "Thanks, I take that as a compliment."

"No more leaving?"

"No more leaving, I promise!" he vowed.

He smiled, as Sam's eyes flutter a few times, trying to fight against the fatigue, before they finally closed and sleep swept over him in a giant wave, hurling him into an ocean of darkness, where resistance no longer was possible.

Pulling the blanket a little higher around the younger man, Dean used his only free hand. Desperate for his brother's presence, Sam wouldn't let go of his other hand, even in sleep.

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Dean Winchester felt content, when he looked at his sleeping kid brother. Now he was glad, he didn't go through with his plan to leave. No matter, what he thought, Sam needed him here and if he was honest with himself, he couldn't stand the thought of being separated from his pain in the butt little brother. He would have to thank the old guy at the motel, as soon as he would go back for his bag. But that could wait, right now he was exactly where he needed to be. And if he would have needed any further confirmation for it, he got it, when the nurse started the treatment for Sam's infected leg.

The older Winchester brother noticed her injecting morphine into his younger sibling's IV line, before she started, although Sam was sleeping. Giving her a questioning look, she explained.

"These treatments are rather painful and Dr. Gonzales ordered the morphine to be given routinely before each of them."

Shaking the youngest Winchester very gently, she warned him of the approaching procedure. Dean could tell, that the medication was already taking effect, because his brother's eyes were unfocused and slid shut before she turned away to get her equipment ready.

For a moment he considered to ask her, what she was going to do, but then decided, he really didn't want to know before hand. Instead, he held on tighter to Sam's hand. Without being disturbed by the close observation, the nurse started to carefully peel of the old dressings. Getting to the last layer, she tore the encrusted gauze off, with what seemed to Dean, no mercy.

Even after being dosed with the narcotic, Sam moaned and his eyes flew open in distress. Only Dean's fast reaction, prevented from moving jerking his leg, possibly hurting himself even more. By looking at him, the older hunter very quickly realized, the medication affected the younger man enough, that even with the prior warning, he didn't understand, what was going on, yet the effect was not quite enough to completely take the pain away.

"It's okay, Sammy, I'm right here with you. I know it hurts, just hold on to me and let the nurse here do her job."

Once again, Sam's mind was too muddled, to really understand the meaning of the words, yet he didn't have to, because it was Dean's voice talking to him and it gave him the security to let go again.

Only after his little brother settled down again, did the older brother turn to the medical professional again and give her an accusing look.

"Did you have to be so rough?"

Her eyes turned sad, "I know, it seems cruel, but this is the only way to get the diseased tissue separated from the healthy."

Dean noted the putrid smell and the bleeding from several areas of the injury, "But you made it bleed!" He said, trying to hold back the nausea, the odor caused.

"I know, this looks bad to you, but you have to understand, bleeding is good, because it means, there is healthy tissue involved. As long as there is only dead and infected cells, there is no chance for healing. Only if we expose the viable areas with good circulation, can we expect to see any healing."

She pointed at some parts, which had a deep red color and the appearance of raw meat.

"See this? This is what we call 'granulation tissue'. It contains clean, healthy cells, that are ready to regenerate. As soon as the whole area looks like this, we can do a secondary closure."

Although still distraught by the hurt this caused to Sam, the young hunter was grateful for the detailed explanation, as it made him understand, why pain and further injury was sometimes necessary to promote healing. Still holding on to the younger man's hand, he stroked his head with the other, while whispering words of reassurance in his ears.

The nurse continued her ministration by flushing the wound with copious amounts of saline solution, before carefully applying a thin layer of cream, which she explained contained enzymes, that would kill the dead layers of infected tissue. After that she covered it with several layers of gauze before finishing up with thick pads, that reminded Dean of extremely small diapers. And to secure all of this, she carefully slid a net like tubing over the dressings.

"All done!" she said, pushing some of the stray hair out of Sam's sweat soaked face, "I'm sorry, I will ask Dr. Gonzales to increase the morphine dosage, before the next dressing change."

It was very obvious, that she felt bad about having to inflict this much pain to the youngest Winchester. Dean was grateful for her concern, as he also found it difficult to watch the agony visible on his siblings face. After his initially attempt to fight the treatment, Sam hadn't moved or even made a noise, yet his brother didn't need any of these things, to know the pain, he endured.

Now that the it was over, Sam revealed his glassy eyes for just a moment, casting Dean an expression of thanks, before he allowed the narcotic drug to take him under again.

SN SN SN SN SN

There was no doubt in Jim Murphy's mind, who was responsible for the improvement in Sam's condition. The credit went solely to Dean. Ever since the older brother returned, two days ago, the youngest Winchesters temperature slowly, yet steadily, returned to a normal level. Even Dr. Gonzales was surprised and initially didn't belief the reports of the nurses, that the infection in the leg had almost cleared. Only after removing the dressings herself and making a visual inspection of the leg, was she convinced of the truth.

"I still can't belief it." She exclaimed, almost too overwhelmed, to find the right words, "I never seen anything like this! After everything Sam has been through, I really didn't have any hope for his leg. The infection was so severe, that I didn't think his body would have the strength to fight it off, even with the large doses of antibiotics we gave him."

The priest looked from a peacefully peacefully sleeping younger brother, to a protective older sibling by his side. A smile played on his lips, as he paused a moment to enjoy the sight, before turning to the physician.

"You know, no matter what people belief, there is a God out there, that looks at us all with mercy and whenever it seems, that there is no way to go on, puts big brothers in our path, that build bridges over the abyss for us."

The physician was getting ready to answer, when Dean interrupted her.

"Okay, so can we just forget about the chick flick moments and get on with it? What's going to happen next for Sam?"

Ready to take exception to his rudeness, the Hispanic doctor suddenly paused and smiled, as it dawned to her, why the older brother had done so. In his eyes, this was nothing special, it was something, he obviously had done before and would very likely do again. There was also no doubt in her mind, that the younger was just as devoted to Dean, as the older was to him. They truly had a special bond, something that reached beyond just a psychological connection, into a physical one, that brought healing and well-being to each of them.

For just a second, she consider the implication this could have to the medical community, should the brothers ever be subject to study. Yet she threw out the thought as quickly as it had come to her, knowing it would bring only pain and suffering to either one of them. Instead she answered the stated question with a steady voice.

"I want to wait a few more days, then we will close the wound and continue with the antibiotics until we are sure, there won't be any more complications. I plan on moving Sam to the surgical step down unit as soon as he recovered from the surgery, which hopefully won't take more than a day or two."

Her eyes moved over to the bed again, where a pair of hazel eyes now had joint the green ones already starring at her.

"I also want you to get out of bed as soon as possible after that. I know walking won't be on the agenda for quite some time, but just getting you up in the chair and later in a wheelchair, will make you feel a lot better."

"What about all those tubes sticking out of me?" The youngest Winchester ask her, while giving her his biggest puppy eye look.

"Well, the two chest tubes are already out." She said, knowing well, he was talking specifically about the Foley catheter and the picc line. Seeing the pleading look on his face, she decided to go easy on him and said, "The Foley can come out, as soon as the bleeding from your kidney is gone. Until then, it will help us to monitor it. The picc line will have to stay longer, but as soon, as you can eat and drink enough, we will disconnect the continuous infusion and just flush it. I don't want to remove it, before you are healed to the point, where we don't have to be afraid of any further infections."

Although not quite happy with the answers, Sam understood her concerns and decided to be content with what he could get. In a way, he was glad, because food was really not something, that was very high on his agenda yet. It involved being propped up, chewing and swallowing, all tasks, which took a lot of effort and pain and still tired him out. Right now, he rather spend his awake time talking with Dean, his dad and Pastor Jim.

TBC

_Okay, so what do you think? Let me know, please. Next chapter will bring a little more about the old man at the motel. Hugs, Vonnie_


	22. Chapter 22

_Thanks for your reviews, they were awesome like always. Just like promised, this chapter will bring some closure on the old man._

Now that Sam was getting better, Dean finally experienced a sense of being alive again. The weight of feeling responsible for Sam's condition was lifted by his brother's words. Although usually not one, who easily received absolution and let go of guilt, he held onto this one, like a drowning man would onto a rope. Not doing so would mean he had to leave his brother and that had become unimaginable. It also didn't hurt at all, that his little brother received the absolution Dean offered just as willingly. However, what really made the difference was seeing Sam come back to life. Although their conversations were still limited, due to the younger ones need for rest, their connection and wordless understanding was reestablished. The older brother finally recognized that losing this connection was, what led him to belief, Sam was dying, in the first place. He never before thought it existed, would have even denied it, but now it was the one thing, that brought him back to the hospital. He now was certain, the dream he had was not just a coincidence. It couldn't be, because he saw and heard with his own eyes and ears, what his father said to Pastor Jim, how it were the same words as in the dream. A year ago, the thought would have scared him, but now he actually took comfort in the feeling, that it was a vision, not one he had, but one Sam somehow sent to him. In addition, maybe, this was what he needed, to finally understand his brother better.

He looked over to his Sam, who was eating his lunch. Seeing Dean look at him, the younger man smiled back, then laid his spoon down.

"You're done eating already?" the older Winchester questioned, "You really should eat the rest of your soup."

"I had enough, really!" Sam responded, not wanting to admit, that holding the spoon and bringing it up to his mouth repeatedly, still hurt him. His injured ribs didn't like the pulling and pushing on the muscles and ligament the movement caused.

"I know you don't want me to help you, but humor me for just a moment. If I was in your place and would refuse help, would you let me get away with it?"

Dean grinned, because by the look on the younger hunter's face, he already knew he won.

"I guess not!" Sam reluctantly agreed, it was not easy to let go of the little bit of independence he owned, yet he knew his brother was right.

"Hey, how about a compromise?" Dean relented, seeing the sadness in the other's eyes, "You eat by yourself as long as you can and then you let me know and I will help you."

"I guess I can live with that."

"But you have to be honest!" Dean smiled.

Instead of an answer, Sam pointed at the spoon, "How about helping me right now?"

Giving him one of his famous smirks, the elder picked up the utensil and started to feed the leftover soup to his brother.

Watching the exchange, John and Pastor Murphy felt almost left out of the relationship between the brothers, yet neither of them where jealous. The priest was grateful for the miracle that was happening, because in his mind there was no doubt that this truly was one.

John, for his part, was just watching in wonder, thanking Jim's God, for giving him his sons back. To him this in itself was worth standing a little on the outside. Moreover, as their father, he could not wish for anything better, than to see his kids have a bond strong enough to hold up against the attacks from all outside influences.

SN SN SN SN SN

It was later that same day, when Sam woke up from one of his naps. Although shorter now, they were still numerous and at times, he even nodded off in the middle of the conversation. He hated doing it, yet just could not prevent it, as his strength was limited and his injuries too painful to decrease or even discontinue the narcotic pain relievers.

His mind slowly working its way out of the grabs of sleep, he remembered having a conversation with Pastor Jim, while Dean and his dad went to get a bite to eat. The details of said conversation were spotty and he had the feeling it was one of them that ended with him falling asleep in the middle of it. Therefore, when he opened his eyes to Dean and the priest laughing at a joke from John, he blushed in embarrassment. Noting the heat creep up Sam's face, the two older Winchester gave him a confused look, not quitesure, what was going on. Even if the younger man overheard the joke, it really didn't have any embarrassing elements in it, which would have warranted his blushing. Jim Murphy on the other hand instantly knew what the problem was.

"Don't worry about it Sam, just think of it like when you were three and I would read you a bedtime story. It always put you right to sleep. There is just something about my voice that does it every time." He smiled, before he continued, "Several of my parishioners seem to feel the same way, at least from what I can tell from up on my pulpit."

The laughter coming from the youngest hunter, although short and ending with a frown on his face and a moan on his lips, as his battered body protested the expression of his amusement, brought joy to the other three men in the room.

Giving himself a moment to recover, Sam retorted, "I will remember to give you a call, the next time I have trouble falling asleep, or even better, you could give me a tape of one of your sermons."

"Good one, dude!" Dean smirked.

"Guess I set myself up for that one." The priest said good-naturedly and silently added "on purpose."

"You sure did." John added, "I think you underestimated Sam, he might be sick, but even on meds his mind seems to be working." He recognized what his friend was doing and secretly thanked him for the effort.

Smiling, Sam looked at his brother and suddenly noticed a change in his expression. Unsure what to make of it, he asked, "Something wrong?"

His question was waved off with a nonchalant "Naw, everything's fine."

Knowing Dean well enough, the younger brother didn't miss the slight hesitation in the answer, "Don't give me the 'everything's fine' line. Just tell me."

It took the older hunter a moment, yet finally he decided to answer, "It's just, I really need to get my bag from the motel, but it's going to take me forever to get there and back. I don't want to leave you for this long."

"That's it? That's what you're worried about?" Sam grinned.

"Yeah, is there something wrong with that?" Dean questioned, a little disturbed by the younger man's reaction.

"No, except, I know why you don't want to go. You think something will happen to me." Looking at the other man, he could see he hit the nail on the head, "Dean, I'm not going anywhere. I promise. You go and get your bag and if it makes you feel better you can call me every hour."

Still not quite convinced, the sandy haired hunter finally gave in, "Alright, I'll leave tomorrow morning, but if you decide to pull something on me, I'll kick your butt."

"Wouldn't expect anything less!"

SN SN SN SN SN SN

Early the next morning Dean left the hospital to drive back to Desperation Point. While he was still a little reluctant to leave, he decided that there really wasn't a reason not to go. Sam was doing as well as could be expected and although not quite stable yet, was not in any immediate danger. Plus, his brother was the one, who pushed him to go. If the oldest Winchester was honest with himself, he had to confess, that the fear of losing his sibling was still too engrained in him, to let go of it quite yet. It would be a long time before he would be able to leave the events of the past few weeks behind.

He made good time during the drive, enjoying the AC/DC and Led Zepplin tapes he pulled out prior to taking off. The day was sunny and bright and there were only a few fluffy white clouds in the sky. By the time he arrived, his worries disappeared and Dean found himself whistling, as he pulled into the parking lot.

The spot in front of his room was taken, so were most the others close by. It looked like business picked up during the few days since he left. Parking away from the other cars, many of which were rusty and banged up, he got out and made his way over to the room he rented. Slowly, he dug the key out of his pocket and opened the door. The room was just as he left it, except of the bed was made and the towels changed. His things were untouched though and it took him only a few minutes to gather his clothes and the few other things and throw them into the duffel bag. Pulling the door shut behind him, he walked towards the office. The door was open, but there was no one to see. Taking a step inside, he looked around, rang the bell on the counter. Almost immediately, a curly head of blond hair appeared from behind the counter. Its owner followed it, a freckle face kid, probably the same age as Sam.

"Sorry, I didn't hear you come in." The kid smiled, "What can I do for you? We are pretty much booked right now."

"Actually, I just came by to check out, I had room 1."

"You are sure 'bout that?" He threw a funny look at him, "Number 1 has not been in use since there was a fire in it four weeks ago."

"I just got my bag out of there, here is the key" The young hunter was sure the teenager was trying to mess with him.

The young man stepped out from behind the counter and walked outside, waving to the other man to follow him. He pointed at the door next to the office, the one, which Dean just closed. Only now, it showed char marks all around the frame and the door.

Used to all kind of supernatural encounters, the hunter couldn't help the chill running down his spine. Trying to shake it off, he took a few steps towards the entry way and found the lock missing. Pushing the door open, he looked inside, unable to miss the destruction in the room. Most of the furniture was damaged and the walls were black. The smell of the smoke was still heavy in the air, irritating Dean's airways, even at the position he stood.

"You belief me now?" The younger man asked, "Now where did you get that key and which room did you really have?"

Not sure, how to explain what happened, Dean gave himself some time, by walking back into the office and laying the key on the counter. Leaning heavily against the wood, he let his head hang, trying to collect his thoughts.

"Where is the old man that usually works here?" He finally asked.

Lifting his head, he found the kid's face only inches away from him. He straightened up and took a few steps back, waiting for the answer.

"What old man?"

"Dude, the old guy, skinny, tall…" He stopped, when his gaze fell on a framed black and white photograph hanging on the wall. It showed the same man, maybe thirty years younger, in front of the motel, "This guy!" He pointed at the picture.

"This?" Now it was the guy, who looked surprised, "This is my great grandfather Joseph Winter, he died 10 years ago. Was 95 at the time. The photo was taken in 1961, after he renovated the place."

"He's dead?" Dean gasped.

"Yeah, man, that's what I said. I was thirteen when he died. You know, he was a great guy. Always had time for me, made me feel like I could do anything." He smiled at the memory, before he went on, "My dad told me, his dad wasn't really Grandpa Joe's son, he took him in as a teenager, picked him right off the street and he and his wife adopted him and gave him a home. They never had kids on their own, but they helped a lot of people. Always had an open house and a bed, even if they couldn't pay. It became kind of a tradition."

At this point, Dean found himself wondering, if maybe Sam was right, when he questioned the black and white philosophy the Winchesters called their own when it came to the supernatural world. What he experienced was clearly a spirit interfering in the world of the living. Yet it wasn't some angry vengeful interference, rather was it a continuation, of what that person stood for in life – being someone, who opened his house to those in need.

"I have no idea, why I'm telling you this, Mr.…?"

"Call me Dean!"

"Dean, it's almost, like Grandpa Joe wants me too. You know, His father was one of the founders of Desperation Point. I remember he told me once; they had been looking for a place to settle and lost everything on the way. So this group of people finally made it to this place. They knew they couldn't go any further, so they decided to take their chances and settle here. The name is self-explanatory. However, it turned out to be the right thing to do, because over the years, they found out there were many more like them and so this turned into a trading station and a place for people to recover before they would go on. Grandpa Joe built this place in the 1930s, started helping people during the depression. "

"Wow, that's quite the story." Dean confessed he paused for a moment, not quite knowing how to ask what was on his mind. In the end, he just came out with it, "Did you ever hear about any strange things going on around here?"

"You mean like ghosts and things?" The kid smiled at him like it was the most common question in the world, "Sure, all the time. There are lots of stories about people coming to town, being down on their luck and leaving with a different attitude. Every one of them says he met someone who talked to them, helped them sort things out. Just like you!" He added.

"Yeah, I guess, just like me. " Dean turned to leave, but looked back one more time, "You got something special going on here. If you ever get a chance, tell the old man thanks from me!"

"Oh, I'm sure he knows!" There was a knowing smile on his face.

TBC

_So what do you think, was it acceptable? Or did you hate it? Let me know, please. Hugs, Vonnie_


	23. Chapter 23

Sam already missed his brother

_Sorry it took me so long. Last week my comp crashed and my hard drive died. Everything was lost and the chapter I was writing went with it. It was frustrating and it took me a while to get over it enough to restart it again. It turned out a lot different though. This chapter is about what I thought was missing from the end of Season One. And although it probably would have changed a lot and therefore it was better the way Kripke wrote it, I took the freedom to give Sam something he really deserved. Hope you agree with me!_

Sam already missed his brother. In the last few days, more than ever before, Dean had become his rock. It was incredibly difficult for the fiercely independent young man to depend on others for just about everything. The daily bed baths the nurses gave him embarrassed him to no end. It was difficult enough to have your face and arms and upper body washed, but to have to endure a nurse, no matter how professional, clean the most private parts of his body, was more than just humiliating. Every time he closed his eyes and tears stung hot in them, as he tried to focus on other things. It was only due to the presence and help of his older sibling in all other tasks that he was able to get through it.

Dean's assist with eating, his joking and silent understanding helped the younger hunter to keep his sense of humor and focus on the promise of more independence in the near future.

Knowing his brother needed to go back to get his things from the motel and that he would be back the same day, was one thing, yet it didn't make things a lot easier for his still fragile state of mind. So eating as much of his breakfast as he could muster, he faint sleep to avoid questions and embarrassing offers of assist. As a matter of fact, he was glad, when the nurse came to do the treatment to his legs. Although much less painful now, he played up the hurt and in exchange received a larger than usual dose of Morphine, helping him to sleep throughout the morning hours.

It was already early afternoon by the time he finally woke up, looking in the brown eyes of his father.

"Nice to see you are awake. You hungry?"

Trying not to worry the older man, he said, "Guess I could eat."

The older man got up and retrieved his tray from the table.

"You got milk, some pudding and half a turkey sandwich here. I will tell the nurse to get the soup heated for you."

John arranged the food, so Sam could easily reach it, then pushed the button for the head of the bed to come up. Before leaving the room, he asked, "You comfortable like this?"

"Yeah!" The younger man grabbed the sandwich, taking a bite.

By the time his father returned with the heated soup he consumed the sandwich, and was halfway through the pudding. Feeling the look John gave him; he put the spoon down and yawned.

"Guess, I'm still tired and I'm really not that hungry."

He turned his face to the other side and let his lids slide close. Without warning, he felt rough but surprisingly tender hands on both sides of his face, turning his face back.

"Sammy, look at me!" The voice was gently but strong, "You have to eat, or do you want me to get in trouble with your brother?" There was almost a smirk in it now.

Unable to resist, the younger man did as asked, than answered the question, "No, I guess not dad. I know how Dean can get." He gave his father an almost smile and accepted the spoon filled with the steaming chicken noodle soup.

By the time he finished the last of it, he had to confess that the oldest Winchester was almost as patient with feeding him as Dean was and before he could help himself, he told the hunter as much.

"You know, I fed you a lot when you where a baby. Dean helped, but he was just a little guy himself and most of it fell on me, after all, I was your dad. You didn't like it at that time either." He laughed.

"I guess I was never very easy to take care of, was I?"

"No, you weren't, but don't think that was your fault." John thought for a moment about how to continue this conversation, "Dean had a stable home and a mom and a dad to take care of him. By the time you were old enough to stand on your own, you saw your mom die, and your brother wouldn't talk except to you and I…., well, I almost lost it."

Sam could see the moisture in the brown eyes, "It's okay dad, you don't have to say it!"

"No, I do, I finally have to tell you about it. It's been in me way too long. Sammy, after your mom died, the only thing, that kept me from loosing myself, was knowing that you and your brother needed me. I didn't always do a great job at being a dad, but I tried. When I found out about the forces that were out there, the ones that killed your mom and all the others, I knew I had to get them. Not just because of revenge, yeah, that was part of it, but also because I needed to keep the two of you safe and make sure the same thing wouldn't happen to others."

He paused again and looked at his youngest, finding only understanding written on his face.

"You were raised by Bobby, by Pastor Jim and by several other people. The only steady person in your life was Dean."

"And you!"

The words were almost whispered and made John jerk in surprise.

"How?"

"No matter where you went or how long you were gone, you always came back. At the time I hated you for not being there for Christmas or my birthday or for school events, but you never left us. I despised hunting and I wanted to hurt you because you didn't want to let me go to college….." He stopped, his eyes filled with pain, "I guess I did, hurt you I mean!"

His eyes turned down, as for the moment he was unable to face the older man.

For several minutes the silence hung heavy in the room, making him think the older man agreed with him. When John finally broke it, he could hear the hurt in his voice.

"Yes, what you did hurt me a lot, but Sam; I was the one who hurt you first. I didn't want you to know the truth of why we needed to stay together. Guess I thought you couldn't handle it."

"Dad, I couldn't have handled it, not then. I never would have confessed that though. Please forgive me!"

John smiled again, feeling relieved by the words, which came from his youngest mouth, "I guess, we are too much alike."

For a moment he feared, he went too far, but then he saw the smirk on Sam's face.

"That's what Dean has been telling me for the past 8 years or so. I never believed it, till now that is. I think he is right though…..and dad, I love you too!"

Once again John was surprised, confusion clearly written on his face.

"I know what you said. Don't ask me how; I can hear your voice in my mind. You told me you accepted me for who I am and that you loved me. Maybe there is something to it, when they say you can hear things when you are unconscious."

"Maybe there is, but that doesn't mean, that I can cop out of telling you now. Sam, I do love you and I more than just accept you, I'm proud of you!"

Even if the youngest Winchester could have doubted the words coming out of his father's mouth, the truth was written in the weathered face and for the first time in years, he felt a connection to the man in front of him, that he thought lost for close to ten years.

Overwhelmed by the emotions rushing through him, he could feel exhaustion taking over again. Secretly cursing his weakness and need for rest, when he much rather would have liked to spent the time talking to the older man, he fought the heaviness of his eyes, yet knew instinctively he would loose. Reaching for the others hand, he was relieved, when he wasn't denied and he finally gave in to the darkness looming around him.

John smiled, as he looked upon his youngest, seeing the sudden glassiness of his eyes and the fight to keep his heavy lids from closing. Only too willingly he took the hand reaching for him. He needed the contact to assure himself, the conversation wasn't just a dream, but that he really reconnected with his youngest.

SN SN SN SN SN

Dean made it back to the hospital just in time to join his dad and Pastor Murphy for pizza. Grabbing a piece from the open carton, he walked over to Sam and planted himself in the chair beside his bed.

"So Sammy, how was dinner, did you eat?"

"Yeah, ate everything on the tray."

The younger man grinned, knowing his brother wouldn't belief him.

"Nice try kid, you know you can't lie to me." Dean smirked.

"He doesn't have to, because he is telling the truth." John unknowingly walked up behind him, "I helped him."

For a moment the oldest brother searched for words, "You're kidding me? Sam let you help him?"

He looked from one to the other and suddenly understood. There were no words needed to tell him, that something significant happened between his father and brother during his absence. Something, which caused them to renew their relationship and become father and son again. He couldn't belief it, after all these years, they actually made up and he hadn't been there to see it. So he was even more surprised by what happened next.

"Thanks, Dean!" the words were said in unity by both men.

Again the young hunter was lost for words and it took him a moment to recover, "Thanks, Dean, for what? I didn't do anything. Heck, I wasn't even here."

"You know, what you did, don't think I have to explain it!" John smiled, seeing the light go on in his firstborn's eyes.

Feeling more than a little uncomfortable with the attention, he shifted around in the chair, then a crooked grin appeared on his face, "Hey, I just was tired of always being in the middle. You two butting heads and screaming at each other was giving me headaches but not having you talk to each other was even worse. There is only so many peace and quiet a guy can take."

TBC

_So what you think? Too far fetched? Let me know, you know, I thrive on reviews. Hugs, Vonnie_


	24. Chapter 24

_Thanks again for all your support and the awesome reviews. I always love to here from you guys. This story is winding down, maybe another chapter after this. _

Dean was pacing the room nervously, waiting impatiently for Sam's return. Although nervous themselves, John and Pastor Murphy smiled at his restlessness. The youngest brother had been taken down for surgery several hours before and was due to be back any time now. At first the three men spent the time playing cards and talking, yet the more time had passed, the less able Dean had been to concentrate. About fifteen minutes ago he had finally put the cards down, announcing, he needed to work the "kinks" out of his back. From then on there was no further talking or sitting down for him.

When the door finally opened and two orderlies pushed the gurney with Sam on it into the room, the older brother paled, taking in the quiet features of his seemingly unconscious sibling.

"Is…is he okay?" He stuttered, finding it difficult to get the words out.

"'m fine!" came the whispered answer, half mast lids shading hazel eyes and huge pupils, still dilated from the drugs in his system.

"Sammy, you're awake." Dean moved over to his brother's side.

"Not really."

The response made the older hunter laugh, although he could see that it was at least partially true. Watching the two tall orderlies carefully transfer their patient into the bed, he noticed the grimacing on Sam's face and the hardly contained moan.

Concerned he asked, "You hurting?"

"Fine now, just the move hurt."

Knowing his brother, Dean was not quite convinced he was telling the truth, "You sure?"

"I just gave him some more of the good stuff, before they brought him up." Dr. Gonzales was standing in the door way, smiling at the young man's concern for her patient, "He shouldn't be feeling much of anything for quite some time. I'm amazed he is even awake at all."

"Had to know Dean was alright." It was apparent that the younger man put all his strength into the effort to stay awake.

"Well, now you know I'm okay, although I have no idea why you would think I'm not. It was you, who had surgery."

"Bad dream!"

Dean, suddenly understanding what was going on, pulled up a chair. Sitting down, he took his brother's hand and leaned forward.

"I'm right here Sammy. You just go to sleep and don't worry about a thing. I will still be here when you wake up, I promise."

There was trust in the look Sam gave him, before he finally seized fighting and he let the drug take him into a comfortable darkness. He knew Dean wouldn't break his promise."

Seeing his baby brother relax and finally drift off to sleep, Dean turned to the physician, all the while never letting go of Sam's hand.

"So how did it go? Any complication? Anything we need to know?" He had difficulty containing the anxiety in his voice and was relieved, when he felt his father's hand and his shoulder.

Dr. Gonzales didn't have to fake the smile on her face and even Jim Murphy, who remained in the background, could see that it reached her eyes.

"The surgery went off without a hitch and Dr. Barnett is confident, that there won't be any further complications. We doubled the dose of Antibiotics for today and tomorrow and will keep him on the regular dose for another five days, just to make sure." Noting, that the tenseness still hadn't left either of the three men, she continued, "His recovery went well too. No nausea or choking incidence this time."

"Thank God for that." The priest called out, giving voice to what the other two only felt.

"What about moving him out of ICU? You still think you can do that in a few days."

Although he knew his brother was in good hands here, Dean would feel much better as soon as he was no longer considered critical or unstable. Being here made him feel like things could change to the worse any minute.

"I think we can do that as soon as tomorrow."

"This soon?" Feeling just like his oldest, John was still afraid to move Sam too early, just because of their need to see him better.

"John", the doctor said in an assuring voice, "If it wouldn't have been for the surgery, I would have moved Sam several days ago. Only because of the complications after the last procedure and the severity of his injuries did I decide it would be better to leave him under close observation. Don't get me wrong, your son has a long recovery ahead of him and it is not going to be an easy one, but he is ready to take the next step in this process."

For a moment all four pairs of eyes rested on the peaceful face of the youngest in their middle. On Dr. Gonzales part, with quiet satisfaction, that for once, she had good news for the small group of men, who were so devoted to her patient. John and Dean grateful, yet still full of doubt, because it seemed too good to be true for something to finally go down without complications. Winchester luck just never seemed to hold. Jim Murphy on his part had no doubt his "Boss" finally was sending Sam on the path to recovery and let the small family enjoy some peace.

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Just as predicted, the next day Sam was moved to the trauma unit on the floor below ICU. It was also the day, when Pastor Murphy had to bid his good-byes after receiving a call the night before that his replacement had taken ill and he was now needed in his congregation. Yet all of them knew, it would not be a long separation, as the priest extended an invitation to the Winchesters to bring Sam to his house after discharge from the hospital.

While Dean and John went down to the cafeteria to get some breakfast, Jim decided to spend a little more time with the youngest Winchester. Not wanting to get in the way, he didn't really have an opportunity to do so before. At least not without anyone else present. Sitting down beside the bed, he watched the sleeping young man, enjoying the relaxed, peaceful expression on his face. For a moment he hesitated, unsure if he should wake him up. In the end the decision was taken out of his hands when Sam stirred and his eyes opened.

"Pastor Jim!" The young hunter was surprised by seeing the priest sitting there, "I thought you left?"

"Not quite, I decided to stay up here, so Dean and your dad could grab some breakfast together."

"Yeah, I know, they still think I can't be left alone for even a moment." Although it sounded like a complaint, Sam's voice and expression belied his words, showing true appreciation.

Easily picking up on the true meaning of the statement, Jim Murphy smiled, "The really care about you!" Pausing for a moment, he continued, "I'm glad you and your dad talked, it's been difficult to see you two so torn apart."

"I never realized how dad felt, what was going on in his head. I always thought he just wanted me to be like Dean. I had no idea, how wrong I was."

"You know, sometimes it is more difficult to understand the people we are close to, than a total strangers. Your dad and you have a lot in common, but you are also very different. John was never a man to express his feelings well."

"I know this now, but I wish it wouldn't have taken so long to figure it out. Could have saved us all a lot of hurt." There was a pained expression on the younger man's face.

"Sam, don't beat yourself up, I belief there is a reason, why everything happens. Sometimes we have to go through pain to understand. For your and your dad it took this incident to get over what happened in the past, to finally understand one another."

"But why? Why didn't I see it earlier? Dean never had that problem." Sam was clearly struggling with this.

Jim put a calming hand on his arm, "Sam, we are all different, you are not Dean and you had to find your own way. There were things that prevented you and your dad to see into each others eyes. It is always sad when this happens, but what's much more important, is what happens from now on."

Sam closed his eyes and just lay there, almost like he went back to sleep, yet the priest could see the wheels spinning in his head.

"Guess you right, better late than never!" He finally responded.

"Your dad was really scared, I don't think he could have survived loosing you and Dean." The priest confessed.

"Dean? What was wrong with him? Did I hurt him more than I remember?"

The panic in the young hunter's voice caught him off guard and for a moment he didn't know how to answer. Finally he said, "No, you didn't, but Dean would have given up on life, if you would have died. Your father knew that. He lost so much, when your mother died and… "

"…and since then he only lived first to protect Dean and me and second to get revenge. I understand that now."

Jim Murphy smiled when he heard the way the younger man completed his sentence. He really started to understand his father, possibly for the first time in his life.

"Pastor Jim, can I ask you a question? It doesn't have anything to do with my dad or me."

The clergy looked at him, suddenly seeing the curious little boy from a long time ago.

"You can ask me anything, you know that Sam!" He encouraged.

"I was just wondering, my dad and Dean; they don't belief that there is any good power in this world. They always tell me, if there was a god, he wouldn't just sit there and let all these things happen. You always told me, that there is only one God and he is all powerful and knows everything, but that we have the freedom to make choices and that's how evil can exist in this world." He stopped for a moment as if to formulate his actual question, then he went on, "I always believed you, but now I'm not sure. I mean, how can you be so sure?"

"You asked me this question before."

"I did?" There was confusion written on the young Winchester's face.

The priest laughed, "Yeah, not quite as complex, after all you were only nine, but it came out to the same."

"So what did you say then?" Sam's curiosity was awakened.

"I told you – Sammy, if you open your eyes and look around you, you can see God everywhere, or at least his work. Bad things happen, evil beings are all around us, but then there are those, who are called to help. People like your daddy, who saves others from those evil creatures."

"I remember now, I said, and people like you, who teach others about God and how to be good."

"That's exactly what you said. I'm glad you remember."

"I wish I was that little again, it's not so easy to belief anymore." The younger man mused.

"You're right, it's not, but it's not impossible. Look at yourself; you are an example of how God works. You should be dead, but you here you are, alive and getting better, that by itself is a miracle. Okay, so some would say it was the doctors, or that Dean and your dad helped you, which is true, but I belief, the reason for you being alive is because you are needed. God needs you to be there for your brother and father, just as he needs them to be there for you. I hope that will help you!" The priest's face was serious as he sent a silent prayer to heaven, that his answers were adequate to help the young hunter through his doubts.

The silence, which followed lasted several minutes, but was in no way uncomfortable. Sam tried to think about what his friend and mentor told him and after a while, he finally felt like he was ready to answer.

"I guess you are right. It's just so tough sometimes, because there is so much evil around.

But really, if there is evil, there has to be good, right?"

"You got it, son." The priest smiled, "If there wasn't good, than evil wouldn't be evil, it would just be."

Seeing the tiredness appear on the youngest Winchester's features, Jim decided it was time to go. He was glad for the opportunity to talk though, because he could tell, that he had given Sam a little bit of peace.

"Sam, I have to go now, but I look forward to continuing our conversation after you are discharged and stay with me."

"Yeah, me too, this one and all the other ones we never finished!" pointing out all the theological discussions they had in the past. Not always did they agree on everything, yet Sam kept his mind open and at times changed his opinion later on.

"Sounds good, now that you are older and been to college, I have the feeling it will be even more interesting to talk about these things with you."

He stood up and bent down to hug the younger man, then put his hand on Sam's head and gave him a fast blessing. Although feeling a little strange, the young hunter had received these many times before and appreciated the love and concern that stood behind each of these blessings.

"I see you in Blue Earth!"

"Yeah, see you soon!" Sam responded, as he watched the priest turn and walk out of the room.

TBC

_So what do you think? Please let me know. I love to hear from you and it always makes my day and also keeps me writing. Hugs, Vonnie_


	25. Chapter 25

_Sorry for taking so long with this chapter. This is the last one and I was really struggling with it. I wanted to go through the whole recovery period, yet finally figured, it would be too drawn out and probably boring. So I struggled to make this sound not too rushed and I'm not sure it quite came out the way I wanted it to. Judge for yourselves!_

It wasn't until four weeks after Pastor Jim left that Sam was finally ready to be discharged. All of the physician's involved were surprised on how fast he was recovering, although especially Dr. Gonzales was very upset, when she found out that John and Dean were planning to take her patient all the way up to Minnesota. She hated to loose track of his recovery and did everything possible to convince them to stay in town. Only after she realized it was fruitless and Sam argued his father and brother needed to get back to work and he would be in good hands with his "uncle" did she give in. Reluctantly she faxed Sam's records to the Orthopedic and Sports Injury Center in Mankato, located about 35 miles from Blue Grass.

Her next concern was for his safe transport and here she proofed to be equally stubborn as any of the Winchester men. She insisted that her patient needed to be able to lie down comfortably, which in no way would be possible in either the Impala or John's truck. So John finally made arrangements with another hunter to take his truck, which he and Dean had picked up a few weeks ago, to Minnesota, while leaving his full sized Chevy van for the Winchesters.

It took John and Dean several hours to organize a mattress, bedding and other amenities the Hispanic physician required before allowing her patient to be released. In the end she made it her personal mission to test and inspect everything herself. Both older Winchesters grinned secretly at the scrutiny she put everything under.

"Doc, I can promise you we will take good care of Sammy!" Dean assured her.

The physician looked at him, her face wearing an almost guilty expression, "I'm sorry, I never meant to imply you wouldn't. It's just, Sam has been somewhat special to me and I hate to see him have a set back because of the long journey."

"You don't have to apologize, I'm glad you take such an interest in my son's well being." John assured her.

She hesitated for a moment then she said, "Would you do me a favor?"

"Sure, just name it." The older Winchester answered.

"Would you keep me updated on Sam's progress? I know I can call the clinic up there any time, but I'm not really interested in the medical information, I much rather hear from you how he is really doing, emotionally and physically."

Dean gave her a worried look, "Are you expecting any problems?"

"No, not really, although complications can always arise, but I think with your support, Sam is going to be just fine." She smiled then added, "Now, if you excuse me, I have to see a few more patients before I get Sam's discharge papers ready. I know you want to take off first thing in the morning tomorrow."

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Sam Winchester was sitting in the oversized recliner the nurses organized for him, when he was first allowed out of bed. The standard hospital recliner turned out way too short for the tall kid and made sitting more of a torture than the relief it was supposed to be after spending all this time in bed. So the next morning it was taken out and replaced with the much larger one. Now the youngest Winchester spent much of his day in it. It felt great to be out of bed, even if the chair only gave him a slightly different position than the bed.

Twice daily one of the physical therapists came up and performed passive exercises with him. Although the therapy was fairly limited, Sam was still grateful for it. His shattered knee remained immobilized and exercises to that leg involved only doing range of motion to the ankle and hip. His other leg was much better and he was allowed to put partial weight on it by now. Due to his inability to stand up, the therapist showed Dean and John how to help Sam do strengthening exercises while he was sitting or lying down. The one thing the young hunter was able to do for himself, were the exercises for his upper body. His arm, although still in a cast, was no real hindrance in doing the exercises to strengthen the assessory muscles, which helped with breathing. Even though they were painful, there was nothing that would prevent him from doing as many repetitions as possible; after all, it was something he could do independently. The constant dependence on others was getting old fast and at times Sam caught himself snapping at everyone around him.

This was the last day before his discharge, yet it also was another one of these days, when the youngest Winchester just didn't seem to be able to find any balance. After spilling his coffee on himself, he endured having his hospital gown changed by his brother, just to make a wrong move with his arm and have the aide drop the new cup on him. The words of frustration coming out of his mouth after that, made the young girl blush and John ask himself, if this really was his youngest, while Dean had to bite his tongue to keep a "That's my Sammy!" from slipping out.

Sitting in the recliner with no one else in the room, the young hunter thought about the seemingly small progress he made and the long journey that was still ahead of him. Even if everything went as planned, it would be at least two more months before he would be able to walk without assist. Two month and that only if the 'Winchester' luck gave him a break. For someone as fiercely independent as Sam, it might as well be a life time. Unable to hold the tears of discouragement back any longer, he was glad that for once he was alone and no one would see them.

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Dean was heading back to his brother's room after leaving John behind downstairs to make some phone calls. He was looking forward to getting out of this place. Being tied down in one place for any amount of time was tough enough, but being cooped up in a hospital with hundreds of sick people made him paranoid. Sam was the only reason he was able to tolerate this confinement.

Enthusiastically he opened the door and stepped into the room.

"Hey dude, ready to…"

The words got stuck in his throat, when he saw the distress in his kid brother's face, noted the tears running down his face and heard the sobs shaking his still frail looking body.

Hurrying to his side, he crouched down in front of him and asked with concern in his voice, "Sammy, what's wrong? What happened?"

Only now realizing his brother's presence, Sam wiped his face with his sleeve and made a poor attempt of a smile.

"M'okay!" He muttered.

"Right, because you always cry like a baby when you are okay!"

"Really, I'm fine." Although he tried his best, the younger man couldn't hide the shakiness in his voice.

"Well, I guess, then I can leave. I just came up to tell you that Caleb called. He wants my help on a hunt. I'm going to leave right now." Dean stood up and took a few steps toward the door, "So I'll see you in a few weeks up at Pastor Jim's."

Without turning, he continued to walk away. By the time he reached the exit, he was sure his plan wasn't working and hard pressed to turn back. Only determination made him take the last step and open the door.

"Please don't go!" The whispered response was followed up with a slightly louder confession, "I'm not okay!"

"I know you are not, Sammy."

It took the older brother only a fraction of a second to be back at the younger's side. Taking his once again sobbing sibling into his embrace, he used his hand to draw soothing circles on his back.

For a while they just sat there, Dean holding his baby brother, more or less patiently waiting for him to calm down enough to talk about his problems and Sam, feeling the comforting closeness of the elder finally letting all his pain out.

After several minutes Sam's body stilled and without letting go of his brother he said, "I just can't do this any more."

Dean moved him slightly away so he was able to look into Sam's eyes, yet continued to hold on to his shoulders, "What can you do anymore?"

"This! Look at me; I can't do anything on my own. I'm dependent like a baby and will be for several more months and that is only if luck holds, which never happens for either of us." Disillusionment was clearly written in his expression.

Dean felt like slapping himself. He knew this would come, had almost waited for it. After all, he knew his brother well enough. Still he hadn't been prepared and this was inexcusable in his eyes.

"Sammy, look at me!" he encouraged the younger man, "You don't have to do this alone, I will be on your side every step of the way. So will dad. Sure, he might leave at times, you know how he get, he needs to keep hunting to keep his sanity intact, but he will be back. Belief it or not, he made a commitment to you!"

Although he knew it was the truth, he wasn't sure Sam would belief him. So he was even more surprised by his brother's answer.

"I know he did!"

Taking it at face value, Dean went on, "See, you are not alone and I might not be able to promise you won't have any set backs but I can promise you that we will be with you."

Sam looked down for a moment, then he lifted his eyes and looked at Dean, "Thanks, I'm sorry I lost it!"

"You have nothing to be sorry for, kiddo. It's only natural to have a bad day once in a while."

"Yeah, I guess," Sam mused, then he suddenly added, "but what about that hunt with Caleb?"

"Dude, I just made that up, I needed something to get you to talk!" Dean smirked, unable to duck the pillow, which until a second ago was supporting his brothers injured arm, was now hitting his face.

Seeing the satisfied grin on his kid brother's face, he knew that at least for now, he had gotten through and pulled Sam out of his depression. Dr. Gonzales had warned them that this was inevitable in a long recovery such as his sibling's; he just didn't expect it to come this soon.

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Dean spent the afternoon making sure he was prepared for anything that might happen during the long trip up to Blue Earth. For once he and John prepare for the trip like their life depended on it. But it was Sam's life or better is well being that depended on their planning. The whole journey was going to take at least five days, about three days longer than it would take any regular traveler and four days more it would take any of the Winchesters under normal circumstances. John had booked rooms in decent motels along their route, making sure to ask multiple questions to assure the comfort of his youngest. He had also a list of physicians and hospitals that could accommodate Sam's problems, just in case anything would go wrong. Only now, after feeling they did everything needed to make for a smooth ride, did they allow themselves to enjoy dinner with Sam.

During the long weeks on the trauma unit, the Winchester men had wiggled their way into every single one of the nurses and aides hearts. John's rugged good looks, his gruffness and short temper, which couldn't hide his concern and love for his sons, at least not to these trained observers earned him the respect and many hidden looks and that not just from the older nurses. Dean's charm and good looks made most of the women swoon, yet it was his devotion to his kid brother, which really won him the heart of every female around. And Sam, well, no one could resist his puppy dog eyes and innocent charm. The way he seemed so blessedly unaware of his looks, which in their imperfectness, were perfect in their own way and even now, pale and covered with bruises and scraps as he was, couldn't be disregarded and made him even more endearing to ladies of the unit.

To celebrate Sam's discharge from the hospital and at the same time show the Winchesters how much they would be missed, the staff brought in food and now instead of serving the usual dinner tray, set it up on a table in the young hunters room. John and Dean were just as surprised as their youngest by the gesture. It was the older son, who finally found his voice again.

"Wow, I don't know what to say, this looks awesome!" He said, looking at the variety of dishes including fried chicken, ham, meat balls, scalloped potatoes, baked beans, cole slaw, potato salad, green bean casserole, cheese cake, pumpkin and apple pie and some other things, that were wrapped up but by the scent of it were most likely hot rolls and bread. Dean couldn't help the smile that appeared on his face, as his mouth started to water.

"I ordered pizza for us half an hour ago." John looked disappointed, "It should be here any minute. I wish I would have known."

"Don't worry about it", Dr. Gonzales assured him, "Debbie overheard you ordering it and told me. I took the liberty and cancelled your order. I hope you don't mind."

"Mind?" Dean, whose face had become long at his father's words, "I love you for it, doc."

He hugged the Hispanic physician and made his way to the table. After all, Dean Winchester was a growing boy and needed all the food he could get.

John wanted to stop him, yet the doctor stopped him, "Don't, I'm glad he enjoys it. I know there was a time, while Sam was not doing well, when you were worried about him."

"Was I this obvious?" the oldest Winchester mused.

"That and the fact that Dean seemed to be only focused on his brother, which obviously still holds true now." She pointed in Sam's direction, who just now was the recipient of a heaping plate of food from his brother.

Looking more than a little overwhelmed by the amount of food his brother put in front of him, Sam let his eyes follow Dean back to the table, where the older brother was now busy with filling another plate for himself. After he was done with it, stalked back to Sam and put the plate down beside the younger man's plate, before pulling a chair up and sitting down. Picking up a chicken leg, he was just about to bite into it, when he noticed his brother didn't start eating yet and was just staring at him.

"Dude, what's the matter, something wrong with your food?"

Sam gave him his patented eye roll, "No, but I'm not an eating machine like you. Dude, half the food would have been more than enough."

"Ooh, I didn't hear this." Dean pretended to cover his ears, "You know you have to eat. Did you look in the mirror lately? A skeleton looks chubby beside you."

"Does not!"

"Does too!"

"Does not!"

"Bitch!"

"Jerk!"

John made an apologetic gesture toward the doctor, yet she just waved him off, smiling, "They sound just like my younger siblings. My father remarried after my mom left him and so my sister is 10 years and my brother 13 years younger than me. The two of them are close, but they are always arguing and bickering like this also. Only difference is they call each other idiot and retard. Your sons make me hope that one day it will have a more loving sound to it."

"Guess most kids are like this some time or the other. I feel lucky, that Dean and Sam always been close. With all the bad things that happened, my boys are the one thing that made everything bearable." The Winchester patriarch suddenly stopped, realizing how much of himself he just revealed to a stranger. Yet for some reason it felt right, made him feel a connection to the outside world that he didn't experience for way too many years. Still, at this point he was not willing to open up more, so he said, "Well, I should get some food before everything is gone."

He pointed to the table, which was now surrounded by several nurses filling their plates.

"Food never lasts very long around here, belief me. You want to get some, you have to be fast." The doctor laughed.

Together they made their way over to the table to get some plates of their own, before joining the two younger Winchesters, who by this time were heavily involved in a discussion with two of the younger nurses.

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Two hours later things had finally calmed down after Dr. Gonzales and John insisted it was time for everyone to leave because Sam needed get enough rest before they started their journey in the morning. This time it was actually the youngest Winchester, who complained about not being able to continue the little celebration. John and Dean both felt almost sorry to have to refuse his pleas, which reminded them so much of a time when five year old Sammy insisted he was old enough to stay up until midnight. But just like then, both of them knew it wasn't in his best interest to give in to his requests.

After helping Sam settle back into bed, both older men sat down beside him. Although tiredness was clearly written in his face, the younger hunter was still not willing to admit to it. Again a smile played around John's mouth, he remembered the times when both boys would play this game at night. What little time, he was able to spend with his kids suddenly meant so much more than it ever did before. Looking back at the last month, he realized how much he missed because of his hunts, yet how much he received just by being allowed to have two sons.

When Mary told him she was pregnant, he had wished for a girl, one that looked just like his beautiful wife. Yet Mary had never been shaken in her belief that their first child would be a boy. Throughout the whole time, he had prayed she would be wrong. When Dean was born there was no way he could have been disappointed. Especially not when the little guy grew into a toddler and his eyes turned the same green color as his mothers. And then Sammy came along, again not the girl he had hoped for. He had to take only one glance at the joy in his wife's eyes, when she looked first at the little baby in her arms and then at him, telling him Sam was a spitting image of him. It made him realize, that it didn't matter what sex the baby was. All that mattered was his family was healthy and happy.

Loosing Mary, finding out that she was killed by something he never even believed existed, immerging himself into a life filled with hunting and revenge, through all this his only reason to get up every day, to not put a bullet through his head had been his sons. They kept him sane and gave him the will to live. Only until know, he never consciously thought about it. It had taken a very real threat of loosing both his boys for him to come to this conclusion. And suddenly John didn't feel quite as haunted anymore. Maybe there was something to what Jim Murphy believed after all.

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While his father was in deep thought over something he didn't know Dean let his eyes move between his brother and dad. There were so many similarities between the two of them, like the dark, wavy hair, which in his father's case now was mixed with gray, their smile and most of all the stubbornness that even Dean couldn't top. The last being the reason for many arguments and in the end for his brother leaving after their dad all but threw him out. For the longest time the older brother thought they would never make up and it tore him up to be in the middle of this. It got so far, that for a few years he didn't have any contact with Sam either. The worst thing was, that Sam thought their father didn't love him, which Dean knew wasn't true. He couldn't count the times John drove them to Stanford, or at least had some other hunter, who happened to be in the area check on his youngest.

So now here they were all three of them and for the first time in years there was peace and even a wordless understanding between John and Sam. For the oldest son, this was like a miracle and felt like he just received the greatest gift ever. Too bad, it almost took Sam dying to get here, a price that seemed way too high. Yet that was behind them, now they just needed to focus on his little brother's recovery. Being a family again was already half that battle won.

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Sam felt tired, yet too wound up to sleep yet. His excitement over finally being able to leave the hospital was only slightly dampened by the fear of what the next few months might have in store for him. Yet it wasn't the same kind of fear he felt this morning, because when he looked around he knew, he wasn't alone. Granted, Dean had always been on his side and he was sure that no one and nothing could ever replace or top his relationship with his brother, but their team was now even stronger with their father being part of it.

For a moment the youngest Winchester had tears in his eyes and a sob escaped his lips as guilt overwhelmed him. He misunderstood his father's motives to the point of causing their family to be torn apart for years.

The two older men were torn out of their thoughts by the suppressed weeping sound coming from their youngest. Confused they exchanged a quick glance before their eyes focused on Sam. The bewilderment written on both their faces turned quickly into understanding in Dean's case, while John's seemed to increase even more, as they unscrambled the bits and pieces coming out of the younger man in between the sobbing.

"Please..., my fault…hurt you…because…too angry…I…destroyed…,….so sorry…!"

The oldest Winchester couldn't help but be reminded of incidences of what seemed the not to distant past, when little Sammy would apologize for breaking something or messing up. He wrapped his arms around his youngest, pressing his brother's tear stained face against his shoulder. At the same time he gave his oldest a questioning look.

"He said, please forgive me, it was entirely my fault. I hurt you both because I was too angry to understand. I almost destroyed our family, I'm so sorry for what I did!" Although he hurt for his brother, he couldn't help the grin, which appeared on his face. Even after all this time, he still spoke Sam, no matter if his brother was happy or all torn up like right now.

John held his not so little younger son until his tremors and sobs became less. When he finally felt Sam had calmed enough, his expression turned serious and he pulled away enough to make eye contact.

"I thought we had this settled son. We both made mistakes but that's in the past now."

The moisture in Sam's eyes threatened to overspill once again and only his will power held it back.

Taking a deep breath, he finally said, "I know, but I hurt both of you of you. Dean had no part in our arguments and he always was in the middle. That was my fault."

He lowered his head, unable to face his brother.

John opened his mouth, yet stopped when he saw his oldest take a step closer. Letting go of Sam, he moved to the side to give his boys the space they needed.

Dean sat down on the bed and put his hand underneath his brother's chin, lifting his head in the process.

"You know, kiddo, this is what your awesome big brother is here for, to act as a buffer between you and the world."

Sam finally looked at him and this time confusion was clearly visible in his features.

"Yeah, remember, I always fought your fights for you, at least until you got old enough to kick some ass of your own. Can't say I liked the bruises I got from that, but I would have never let you get beaten up by a bully, or like in one case my best friend at the time. I didn't have to do that, but I did, because I wanted too."

"Yeah, you always were there. Still are today." Sam agreed.

"See, same here, I never had to be in between you and dad. I did it because I wanted to, and I didn't always do it right either. Several times I was so mad at you that I let you take a punishment you didn't really deserve."

The younger hunter gave him a surprised look, "You did?"

"Sure did, in all my awesomeness, I still wasn't perfect. Not at that time anyway!" He smirked.

"But I hurt you!" Sam still wasn't ready to receive the absolution.

"Well, did you do it on purpose?"

"No, but…!"

"See, so you forgive me for hurting you on purpose, but you won't let me; us forgive you for doing something, which you thought was right at the time?" Dean smiled and nodded at John, whose face also showed a smile.

There was a short silence, then the youngest Winchester said, "Guess you are right! All I wanted was a normal life. I didn't understand that all you were doing was protecting me."

"Don't be so hart on yourself, you were just a kid." Dean tried to encourage him again.

"I recognize that now and that's why I accept your forgiveness." He looked at his brother and saw the intense green of his eyes light up, "Thanks for being my awesome big brother and father."

The silence that fell over the room for the next few moments was filled with quiet exchanges between the three men. Things, which words never could express adequately, yet that were conveyed without difficulty by the glances going back and forth between them.

Sam at last was the one to break the stillness, knowing that neither his father nor his brother were very emotional.

"Now Dean, we do have to talk about those unjustified punishments you let me take!" He said, purposely sounding stern and almost angry, at the same time having a difficult keeping a chuckle in.

John looked a little surprised at his youngest and opened his mouth to interfere, when he caught the smirk in his eyes. Dean on the other hand could read his baby brother like a book and responded immediately.

Yeah well, right after we talk about the time when you took dad's shot gun apart and I had to fix it because you had no idea how. Or what about the time when you decided to take the Impala for a spin when you were 14 and put a dent in the front fender. I took the blame for that too."

"How…?"

Dean interrupted him, "How did I know you took the car? I saw you sneak out that evening. Belief me Sammy, there is not a lot I don't know about you." He gave his brother a satisfied grin, "And just in case you wonder why I took the blame? Because I knew about the date you had with Kara Sims. Actually, I was kinda proud of you for having the guts to take the Impala. And having dad teach me how to take a dent out of the fender was really something that came in handy in the long run. So anything else you want to talk about?"

"Jerk!"

"Bitch!"

For a while the banter was going back and forth, pretty soon including John, who in no way was left behind by his sons. Pretty soon though Sam found himself more listening and smiling than participating, as tiredness overcame him. Yet this time he didn't feel frustrated, rather he was content and for the first time in years he felt like nothing could touch him, not even the evil that killed his mom and girlfriend. His family wasn't perfect, but they were on his side and he could trust them with his life. With this knowledge he closed his eyes and let sleep claim him, at least for tonight no longer afraid of what the future might bring.

The two older men tuned there voices down as both of them noticed their youngest had fallen asleep. Both reached out at the same time to push the hair out of Sam's hair, there hands meeting in the dark curls. For a moment they paused there, content in the physical contact between all three of them.

Life might have dealt the Winchesters its worst, yet as a family they could deal with whatever was thrown their way. It really didn't matter what the next few month might bring for Sam, together they would get through it, after all, they were Winchesters. One was strong, three were almost invincible.

FIN

_So this is the end. Hope you are not too disappointed. I know it's kinda sappy, yet this is what came out of me. Let me know what you think. Thanks for the loyalty you showed me. Hugs, Vonnie_


End file.
